•NRLF 


By  the  Same  Author. 


JAMES    RUSSELL    LOWELL. 

A  Biographical  Sketch.  Illustrated  with  six  Helio- 
type  Engravings,  i  vol.  Small  quarto.  $1.50. 

"  Mr.  Underwood's  style  is  singularly  felicitous." — Boston 
Globe. 

"  Full  of  interesting  things."  —  Boston  Advertiser. 

"A  very  charming  biographical  sketch."  —  Quebec  Chron 
icle.  

HENRY   WADSWORTH    LONGFELLOW. 

A  Biographical  Sketch.  i2mo.  355  pages.  With 
12  Illustrations.  $1.50. 

"  A  charming  delineation  of  the  life  of  this  eminent 
scholar,  traveller,  poet,  and  man  .  .  .  and  forms  in  every 
sense  delightful  reading."  —  Lutheran  Quarterly. 

"  The  authoritative  work  upon  the  career  of  the  lamented 
poet.  Much  of  the  material  was  derived  from  personal 
intercourse  with  the  subject  just  prior  to  his  decease."  — 
Boston  Home  Journal. 

"  The  thoughtful  reader  of  Mr.  Underwood's  sketch  will 
possess  the  essential  facts  that  illustrate  the  lovely  and 
gracious  life  of  the  first  and  greatest  of  American  poets."  — 
New  York  Tribune.  

Sold  by  all  booksellers.  Mailed,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of 
price,  by  the  publisher?, 

JAMES  E,  OSGOOD  &  CO,,  Boston, 


7 ' 


JOHN  GREENLEAF  WHITTIER 


BY 


FRANCIS  H.  UNDERWOOD 

if 

AUTHOR  OF  "HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW,  A  BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH, 

"  JAMES   RUSSELL   LOWELL,  A   BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH,"   ETC. 


BOSTON 
JAMES   R.    OSGOOD   AND   COMPANY 

1884 


Copyright,  1883, 
BY  FRANCIS  H.  UNDERWOOD. 

All  rights  reserved. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS: 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


TO    THE    RIGHT  HONORABLE 

JOHN   BRIGHT, 

Distinguished  for  his  brilliant  public  services,  admired  by  the 
English-speaking  people  of  the  New  World  as  an  eloquent  advocate 
of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  yet  more  endeared  to  them,  and 
especially  to  the  Society  of  Friends,  by  his  expressed  sympathy  and 
affection  for  the  revered  Quaker  poet  of  New  England, 

Cfjts  Biosrapfjs  is  Drticatrt, 

by  his  permission,  with  sincere  regard,  by 

THE   AUTHOR. 


939815 


ONE  Asn,  ROCHDALE,  Sept.  9,  1883. 

DEAR  SIR, —  ...  I  have  had  great  pleasure  in 
reading  what  my  friend  Mr.  Whittier  has  written.  He 
has  done  much  to  elevate  the  tone  of  public  sentiment 
with  you,  and  his  services  in  your  great  struggle  to 
free  the  colored  portion  of  your  population  cannot  be 
overestimated. 

It  is  a  great  gift  to  mankind  when  Providence  sends 
us  a  true  Poet  whose  genius  is  distinguished  by  the 
purity  which  is  visible  in,  and  indeed  is  inseparable 
from,  the  writings  of  Mr.  Whittier. 

I  think  it  a  great  compliment  you  pay  me  in  pro 
posing  in  an}'  wa}*  to  associate  my  name  with  the 
record  of  the  life  of  a  man  for  whom  I  feel  no  small 
degree  of  affection  and  of  reverence.  .  .  .  Believe  me 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

JOHN  BRIGHT. 

FRANCIS  H.  UNDERWOOD,  Esq., 

Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTICE. 


THIS  work  was  undertaken  with  the  approval  of 
Mr.  Whittier,  and  in  its  preparation  the  author  has 
received  valuable  assistance  from  relatives  and 
friends  of  the  poet.  It  is  not  intended  as  a  critical 
study,  but  as  a  friendly  guide  and  interpreter.  Tho 
subject  of  the  memoir  is  presented  as  a  man  as  well 
as  poet,  and  his  public  services  and  character  are 
set  forth  with  as  much  detail  as  is  deemed  proper. 
The  letters  now  for  the  first  time  printed,  and 
the  early  poems  reproduced,  have  Mr.  Whittier's 
sanction. 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTORY 


CHAPTER    I. 

ANCESTORS. 

Thomas  Whittier  pottles  in  Salisbury  ;  removes  to  Newbury,  and 
afterward*  to  Haverhill.  —  His  S..n  marries  tin-  Daughter  of 
Joseph  Pea>Iry,  a  (Quaker.  —  Intermarriage  with  Family  of 
Greenleaf,  also"  of  Hussey.  —  Tradition  of  the  Uadiclor  l-".\ 


CHAPTER    II. 

PURITANS   AND    QUAKERS. 

Fox's  Preaching  a  Protest  against  Formalism.  —  Puritan*  Intr.Ier- 
ant  because  not  Enlightened.  —  Splendor  of  Modern  Wor-hip 
unapostolical.  —  Quakerism  an  Inward  Life.  —  Stripes.  Impris 
onment,  and  Death.—  Quaker  Influences  in  the  Whittier  Family  18 


CHAPTER    III. 

A    QUAKER    HOME. 

The  old  Whittier  House,  its  Location  and  Surroundings.  —  The 
I-amilv  a-*  -k.-U'hrd  in  M  Snow  Pxiuml.11  —  b-tter  of  «'.(.'.<  ha>e, 
a  Neighbor  in  Karly  Day.-.  —Harriet  Livennore  30 


xii  Contents. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

EARLY   YEARS. 

The  Poet's  Childhood.  — His  Schooling,  Boojts,  and  Religious 
Training.  —  The  Barefoot  Boy  hears  Scotch  Songs.  —  Joshua 
Coffin  brings  a  Volume  of  Burns.  —  Air-castles  and  Verses.  — 
Garrison's  "Free  Press." — Preparation  for  the  Academy  .  .  54 


CHAPTER    V. 

YOUTH  AND  EARLY  MANHOOD. 

The  Academy.  —  Thayer,  Editor  of  the  "  Gazette."  —  Recollections 
of  "Whittier  as  a  Youth,  by  Mrs.  Pitman.  —  His  Appearance, 
Manners,  and  Mental  Traits.  —  Teaches  School.  —  Academy 
again. — Edits  the  "American  Manufacturer,"  in  Boston.— 
Writes  assiduously. — Edits  the  "  Gazette."  —  Writes,  for  th/ 
Hartford  "  Review."  — Is  praised  by  George  D.  Prentice.  —  His 
Poetry  not  Imitative.  —  His  Intellectual  Life  secluded  ...  72 


CHAPTER    VI. 

WRITING  FOR  THE   PRESS. 

Popular  Poets  in  1830.  —Day  of  Small  Things.  —  Savage  Mode  of 
Criticism.  — Specimens  of  Amenities.  —  Sketch  of  Prentice.  — 
Whittier  succeeds  him  as  Editor.  —  Specimens  of  Early  Verses. 
—  Life  in  Hartford.  —  Visits  Haverhill,  and  remains  until  after 
the  Death  of  his  Father.  —  Resigns  his  Position  as  Editor  .  .  85 


CHAPTER    VII. 

SEEING    SERVICE. 

The  Anti-slavery  Movement  begun.  —  Garrison  establishes  the 
"Liberator."  —  His  Career  in  Boston.  —  Persecution  of  Aboli 
tionists. —  Whittier's  Great  Essay.  —  He  attends  the  National 
Anti-slavery  Meeting  at  Philadelphia.  —  Mobs  in  Haverhill, 
Concord  (N.  H.),  and  Boston.  —  Escape  of  Whittier  and  George 
Thompson. — Anti-slavery  Lyrics 106 


Contents.  xiii 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

POLITICAL  MOVEMENT   AGAINST   SLAVERY. 

Garrison  assails  the  Church  for  its  Conservation  and  Silence. — 
I!.-  di-pri-i-atr*  Political  Action. —A  I>ivi>ioii  takes  Place.— 
Whittier  Mil.-s  with  tin- Workers  in  Politics.  —  The  "  Emanci- 
pator."  —  "  Reminiscences"  of  Samuel  . I.  May 125 

CHAPTER    IX. 

TRIED  BY  FIRE. 

Whittier  again  edits  the  "  Gazette." —Resides  in  New  York.— 
Goes  to  Philadelphia  to  conduct  the  "  Pennsylvania  Freeman." 

—  Burning  of  Pennsylvania  Hall  by  a  Pro-slavery  Mob.  —  Re 
moval  of  the  Whittier  Family  to  Amesbury 135 

CHAPTER    X. 

VOICES   OF   FREEDOM. 

Whittier  edits  the  "Middl.-sex  Standard." —  "  The  Stranger  in 
Lowell."  —  Intense  Feeling  shown  in  the  "Voices."  —  "The 
Pastoral  Letter." — Poetical  Merits  of  the  "  Voices  "  ....  147 

CHAPTER    XL 

FOUNDATIONS  OF  FAME. 

"Moll  Pitcher."  —  Nahant.  —  Buckingham's  "Xew  England  Mag 
azine."  —  The  "  Democratic  Review."  —  "  Songs  of  Labor."  — 
"The  Bridal  of  Pennacook."  —  The  Ticknor  Edition  of  1843.— 
"SupernaturaliMii  in  New  England."  —  "Memories"  and  their 
Significance.  —  The  Merrimac  River  and  its  Scenery. —  "Cas 
sandra  Southwick " .  .  .  i;,!i 

CHAPTER    XII. 

PROGRESS. 

The  "  National  Era,"  its  Eminent  Contributors  and  its  Influence. — 
Ninety  Poems  by  Whittier.  —  "Margaret  Smith's  Journal."  — 
"Old  Portraits."  —  The  Mu—ev  Edition  of  Whittier's  Poems. 

—  "The  Chapel  of  the  Hermits  " .178 


xiv  Contents. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

PERSONAL  MATTERS  AND   CURRENT   COMMENT. 

Whittier's  Home  Life.  —  His  Sister  Elizabeth  as  a  Poet.  —  Mercy 
Hussey  and  her  Romantic  Story.  —  Dr.  S.  G.  Howe.  —  Calef 
and  Cotton  Mather.  —  Charles  Sumner.  —  "  Ichabod."  —  Re 
lenting  toward  Webster.  —  A  Grand  Portrait  of  the  Orator.  — 
The  Fugitive  Slave  Law.  —  Friends  sketched  in  "  The  Last 
Walk  in  Autumn."  —  Lake  Winnepesaukee.  —  The  Poet's 
Sketch  of  Himself ' 188 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

LITERATURE  AND  REFORM  UNITED. 

The  Ticknor  &  Fields  Edition.  —  Whittier  at  Maturity.  —  His 
Place  in  Letters  acknowledged.  —  The  "Atlantic  Monthly."  — 
Dissolution  of  Parties.  —  Reform  no  longer  Unfashionable. — 
Letters  from  Whittier  amending  Poems.  —  "Home  Ballads." 
—  John  Brown.  —  Letter  of  Whittier  to  Mrs.  Child  ....  212 


CHAPTER    XV. 

IN   WAR  TIME. 

Upburst  of  Patriotic  Feeling.  —  Letters  from  Whittier,  1861.— 
Fremont's  Noble  Error.  —  The  Port  Royal  Negroes'  Song. — 
Poems  of  the  Period  influenced  by  the  War.  —  Barbara  Friet- 
chie.  —  Colonel  Robert  G.  Shaw.  —  Whittier  opposes  Execution 
for  Treason. — Convention  of  Abolitionists  at  Philadelphia. — 
Whittier's  Letter 229 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

POEMS  IN  TIME  OF  PEACE. 

"Snow  Bound"  the  Clearest  Expression  of  Whittier's  Genius. — 
"The  Tent  on  the  Beach." —  Sketches  of  Fields  and  Bayard 
Taylor.  —  Pictures  of  Sea  from  Shore. — "The  Grave  by  the 
Lake."— The  Atlantic  Cable.  —  The  Duke  of  Argyll.  — "Na 
tional  Lyrics." — Intense  Religious  Feeling. — "The  Vanish- 
ers."  —  Bryant.  —  Thomas  Starr  King 245 


Contents.  xv 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

"AMONG   THE   HILLS." 

Realistic  Scenes.  —  Country  LifV.  —  Bearcamp  River.  —  The  Ossi- 
pi-i-  Mountains. —  A  Famou>  Litrrary  Woman. —  "  Miriam. "- 
Tlu'   tiny  Schoolgirl's   Artk-s>   Ccuiii»i<ui.  —  "  Kin^,    l>clls  in 
univan-d   stivpli-  !  " — "A  Spiritual    Manii'otntiim." —  Pasto- 
riui  in  Arcadian  Days. — Alice  and  1'hu  be  Cary 262 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

FRIENDSHIPS. 

Whittior's  Letters  to  Mrs.  Child. —  Garrison's  Funeral.  —  "  How 
Mary  Grew."  —  Tin-  Kniperor  Dom  Pedro.  —  A  Celebrated  I'ub-     . 
IMu-r.  —  Whitticr'.s  CorR->iiondence.  —  A  Thackeray  Myth.— 
His  Neighbors 277 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

"  HAZEL  BLOSSOMS." 

The  Witch-IIazel.—  Charles  Sumner  ;  an  Estimate.  —  Whittier's 
(irand  Klejry.  —  The  Atnn»i>here  of  the  Later  Poems.  —  A 
siz.  —  The  Sea  Dream.  —  Poems  of  Elizabeth 295 

CHAPTER    XX. 

SEVENTIETH   BIRTHDAY. 

Dinner  given  by  the  Publishers  of  the  "Atlantic."  —  Whittier's 

Response.  —  Longfellow.  —  Emerson.  —  Holmes.  —  Warner.  — 

!  Is.  —  Norton.  —The  "  Literary  World's  "  Symposium.  — 

Tributes.  —  Bryant  (in  prose).  —  Mrs.  Stowe.  —  President  Eliot. 

—  "Deer  Islands  Mi-tn— " 307 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

"THE  VISION  OF  ECHARD."- "THE   KING'S  MISSIVE.' 

Love  outlives  the  Passions. -  "The  Henchman"  an  Ideal  Love- 
Poem.  —  The  Subjective  Poetry  of  Landscapes.  —  The  Poet 


xvi  Contents. 


sometimes  the  Servant  of  his  Inspiration.  —  The  Quaker  Woman 
in  the  Old  South.  —  "  Eventide,"  a  Retrospect.  —  Quaint  Abram 
Morrison.  —  Death  busy  among  Friends.  —  The  Doctrine  of 
Eternal  Love  321 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  WHITTIER'S  VERSE, 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

CONCLUSION. 


APPENDIX. 

A  Personal  Sketch  of  Whittier 377 

Middle-Century  Politics 389 

Woman  Suffrage 394 

The  Deity 

List  of  Poems  first  printed  in  the  "National  Era "  .        .        .        .397 

Two  Early  Poems 399 

What  of  the  Day?     .                          403 

What  the  Traveller  said  at  Sunset 404 

List  of  Whittier' s  Writings 406 


INDEX    , 407 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


JOHN  GREEXLKAF  WHITTIKK Frontispiece 

Till      HlKTIIl'LACK    OK    WlIITTlKK l\\\ 

AIUUAIL   IIr»i:v  WHITTIKK.     Mothrrof  tin-  Port      .  48 

WHIITIEU  AT  THE  A«;K  OK  :{o.    Fn.in  a  da^iirnv,  t\  ]  «• 

taken  in  Philadelphia  in  1888 \:\^ 

OAK  KNOLL,  I)A.\\II:-.  M  \-s 11-; 

ELIZABETH  IIrs>i:v  WHITTIEU  .  -\^\ 


INTRODUCTORY. 


all  the  world  loves  a  poet  is  true  chiefly 
of  the  poet  whose  songs  are  in  the  hearts  of 
mankind.  His  birthplace  becomes  classic  ground. 
His  features,  manners,  traits,  and  habits  are  sub 
jects  of  natural  curiosity  and  lasting  interest.  The 
hills  and  streams  he  was  familiar  with  are  beauti 
ful,  if  only  because  his  eyes  dwelt  upon  them ;  his 
haunts  in  the  woods  or  shaded  vales,  his  outlooks 
from  the  heights,  are  charming  because  he  enjoyed 
tin -in.  If  visible  Nature  filled  his  forming  mind 
with  the  sources  of  poetic  images,  he  in  return 
impregnated  the  same  scenes  with  his  own  spirit, 
and  left,  as  it  were,  an  immortal  benediction  upon 
them ;  so  that  the  grandeur  and  beauty  which  first 
broke  upon  the  poet  is  reflected  back  by  the  splen 
dor  of  his  genius,  and  his  admirers  in  later  days 
see  all  things  in  the  newer  lustre  he  gave  tin -in. 
The  chair  he  sat  in,  the  school-bench  whereon  he 


2  Introductory. 

carved  his  name,  the  brook  he  followed  for  trout 
or  in  search  of  strange  flowers,  the  secluded  re 
treats  be  !ove4,the  silent  pool  ittto  which  he  looked 
fol1 : the  'fauy,—  all  these  are  pervaded  as  by  an  un 
seen  presence.  A  thrill  comes  with  every  thought 
of  contact  transmitted  from  the  beloved  hand ; 
the  latch  falters  ;  the  threshold  throbs  under  foot ; 
the  fireplace  glows  and  yearns ;  the  wind  croons 
in  the  chimney.  Without,  the  elm-tree  waves  a 
welcome  with  its  pendent  arms ;  birds  sing  as  if 
they  had  traditions  of  him  who  loved  their  race; 
the  flocks  gather  in  sympathetic  groups;  and  the 
great  barn,  filled  with  the  shorn  beauty  of  the 
meadows,  and  with  lines  of  patient  cattle,  opens 
its  weather-beaten  doors  in  invitation.  All  things 
lead  the  poet's  disciples  in  his  loved  ways  to  the 
sources  of  his  loved  thoughts. 

It  is  only  poets  that  are  thus  universally  loved 
and  honored,  because  theirs  are  the  distillations 
of  thought  made  portable  for  the  ages. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  is  a  spontaneous,  natu 
ral  singer,  to  whom  the  Muse  came  in  early  youth 
unsought.  Among  eminent  modern  poets  he  is  the 
one  who  has  had  fewest  advantages  of  culture  and 
travel,  and  has  made  the  least  show  of  scholarship. 
He  was  brought  up  under  an  austere  rule,  with 
a  total  denial  of  pleasure  as  the  world  esteems  it ; 


Introductory.  3 

and  an  unquestioning  obedience  to  duty  early  took 
and  maintained  tin1  place  of  boyish  impulse. 

From  his  birthplace  no  house  or  chimney-smoke 
was  visible;  it  was  a  valley  shut  in  by  forests, — 
only  hills,  trees,  and  heaven  in  sight.  He  had  few 
companions  and  fewer  books ;  and  he  had  known 
no  more  of  the  actual  world  than  could  be  seen  at 
a  small  seaport  a  dozen  miles  away.  Yet  whilr. 
he  was  a  boy  of  sixteen,  toiling  daily  in  the  fields 
or  tending  sheep  and  cattle,  he  was  already  liviuir 
a  twofold  existence ;  and,  though  untaught  in  lit 
erary  art,  he  wrote  poems  for  the  county  newspaper 
which  educated  men  stopped  to  read  and  admire. 

In  observing  the  development  of  a  poet  and  the 
irrnwth  of  his  fame,  it  is  common  to  consider  it  a 
miraculous  rise  from  obscurity ;  but  Whittier  was 
never  obscure,  even  in  the  seclusion  of  his  father's 
farm ;  the  promise  of  genius  was  manifest  in  the 
first  lines  he  wrote ;  and  the  delay  of  recognition 
on  the  part  of  the  world,  —  was  it  an  unusual  cir 
cumstance  ? 

We  shall  see,  further,  that  his  struggles  and 
sufferings  for  conscience'  sake  have  been  no  less 
remarkable  than  his  purely  intellectual  efforts; 
that  his  services  to  humanity  would  have  IK -m 
memorable  even  if  he  had  never  penned  a  stan/.a  ; 
that  the  story  of  his  life  would  ha\<-  Uvn  a  noble 


4  Introductory. 

lesson  even  if  the  world  had  never  felt  its  influence ; 
and  that  he  would  have  been  loved  and  revered 
if  his  name  had  never  gone  beyond  the  limits  of 
his  native  county. 

The  outward  facts  of  a  human  life  may  be  care 
fully  recorded,  and  yet  that  life  as  it  truly  is  may 
be  quite  beyond  the  biographer's  grasp.  The  truth 
concerning  a  man  (varying  the  celebrated  formula 
of  Holmes)  may  depend  upon  the  point  of  view. 
It  is  the  difference  between  what  he  thinks  of  him 
self,  what  others  think  of  him,  and  what  is  the 
estimate  by  the  Judge  that  never  errs. 

If  it  were  not  for  an  inborn  shyness,  the  re 
straint  of  modesty,  or  for  the  religious  desire  of 
leading  a  purely  inward  life,  the  poet  himself 
would  best  tell  his  own  story.  He  alone  could 
reveal  the  progress  of  his  silent  thoughts,  and 
portray  for  us  his  hopes  and  fears  at  the  time  when 
he  meditated  his  flight  into  the  region  of  song. 

Whoever  has  felt  the  power  of  Whittier's  mind 
and  heart  in  conversation  must  have  been  conscious 
of  two  strong  forces  in  equipoise.  His  emotion  is 
all-absorbing,  yet  his  intellect  is  clear  and  just ; 
and  the  Will  (the  only  Ego  we  know)  is  seen  bal 
ancing  the  promptings  of  feeling  and  the  deduc 
tions  of  reason.  We  cannot  doubt  that  in  early 
days,  before  he  was  led  to  the  almost  sublime 


Introductory.  5 

self-control  which  is  the  distinction  of  the  Friends, 
he  must  have  been  often  carried  away  by  new 
found  conceptions,  and  impatient  at  the  limits  set 
for  him  by  the  Divine  Providence.  But  an  auto 
biography  or  any  trustworthy  view  of  his  interior 
life  is  not  to  be  looked  for. 

Moreover,  our  poet  has  not  been  even  ordinarily 
careful  to  preserve  letters  and  memoranda  to  serve 
a  biographer's  turn.  There  ar,e  authors  of  less 
note  whose  intellectual  luggage  is  assorted,  inven 
toried,  neatly  done  up  and  addressed  to  the  care 
of  posterity,  ready  to  be  delivered  at  the  supreme 
moment.  Unfortunately,  much  of  it  remains  un 
called  for  on  the  hither  bank  of  the  Styx. 

In  Whittier's  case  the  published  poems  are  well 
known,  and  those  which  his  later  judgment  rejected 
are  not  likely  to  appear  for  the  gratification  of  the 
curious.  His  part  in  the  great  revolution  in 
thought  and  morals  which  has  distinguished  our 
century  is  familiar  to  his  contemporaries,  and  is 
to  be  read  in  the  anti-slavery  journals  which  it 
was  the  fashion  to  contemn.  It  is  only  necessary 
to  make  a  faithful  study  of  his  works,  and  of 
the  scenes  and  events  he  has  illustrated,  in  order 
to  interpret  the  poet,  the  philanthropist,  and  the 
man.  It  is  a  task  full  of  pleasure,  but  not  without. 
difficulty. 


6  Introductory. 

A  recital  of  the  inevitable  experiences  of  life  is 
necessary,  however  old-fashioned  or  obsolete  such 
a  course  may  be  considered  by  reviewers.  Poets, 
like  other  human  beings,  have  an  earthly  origin 
and  often  commonplace  surroundings.  When  all 
the  necessary  details  are  gone  over,  perhaps  the 
reader  may  be  able  to  create  for  himself  a  picture 
of  the  man. 

The  experience  of  the  author  while  making 
studies  for  this  work  leads  him  to  believe  that  the 
most  attentive  and  appreciative  reader  of  poetry 
needs  at  times  an  interpreter.  Many  an  allusion 
is  passed  over  by  those  who  are  not  familiar  with 
the  natural  scenery,  the  legends  and  traditions  of 
the  poet's  neighborhood,  or  with  the  events  of  his 
life,  and  the  friends  of  his  youth  and  his  age. 
When  fully  illustrated,  the  poems  of  Whittier  be 
come  his  own  life  and  experience.  We  trace  his 
character  in  every  line.  We  see  the  abounding 
sympathy  and  the  love  of  beauty  which  were  his 
inheritance.  We  mark,  not  unmoved,  his  simple 
content  with  poverty  while  he  was  toiling  for  the 
oppressed.  We  see  also  that  the  various  poems 
form  a  charming  itinerary  of  the  Merrimac  valley, 
the  mountain  and  lake  region  of  New  Hampshire, 
and  the  coast  of  Maine.  A  stranger  to  those 
scenes  has  but  vague  impressions  when  he  reads  of 


Introductory.  7 

"  The  Laurels,"  "  Artichoke  River,"  "  Powow  Hill," 
"  Deer  Island,"  and  "  Hawkswood : "  names  remain 
only  names. 

Instead  of  assuming  a  purely  critical  office,  it 
will  be  the  aim  of  the  author  to  show  the  character 
and  work  of  Whittier  as  man  and  poet,  by  means 
of  authentic  personal  narrations,  and  by  references 
to  the  poems  which  so  eloquently  depict  his  inner 
life,  and  to  those  which  have  given  an  undying 
interest  to  some  of  the  most  beautiful  scenes  in 
Xr\v  England. 


JOHN    GEEENLEAF    WHITTIER. 


CHAPTER    I. 

ANCESTORS. 

Thomas  Whittier  settles  in  Salisbury  ;  removes  to  Newbury,  and 
afterwards  to  Haverhill.  —  His  Son  marries  the  Daughter  of 
Joseph  Peasley,  a  Quaker.  —  Intermarriage  with  Family  of  Green- 
leaf,  also  of  Hussey.  —  Tradition  of  the  Bachelor  Eyes. 


WHITTIER,  the  first  of  the  family 
in  this  country,  was  born  in  the  year  1620, 
and  sailed  from  Southampton,  England,  for  Bos 
ton,  Mass.,  in  the  ship  "  Confidence,"  of  London, 
John  Jobson,  master,  April  24,  1638.  John  Rolfe, 
his  wife,  Anne,  and  their  daughter,  Hester,  were 
Whittier's  companions  on  the  voyage.  Thomas 
subsequently  married  Ruth  Green,  who  was  Rolfe's 
sister,  and  settled  in  Salisbury,  on  the  north  shore 
of  the  Merrimac  River,  not  far  from  its  mouth. 
His  land  lay  on  the  Powow  River,  a  tributary  of 
the  Merrimac,  and  included  a  beautiful  hill,  which 
bears  his  name.  His  marriage  probably  took  place 


io  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

in  1645  or  1646,  as  the  birth  of  his  first  child, 
Mary,  is  recorded  in  August,  1647.  He  was  dep 
uty  to  the  General  Court  from  Salisbury,  and  was 
one  of  the  commissioners  who  laid  out  the  road 
from  Salisbury  to  Haverhill.  He  afterwards  lived 
for  a  time  in  Newbury,  and  in  1648  he  removed  to 
Haverhul, --r-both  towns  being  situate  on  the  same 
river.  The  town  records  of  Haverhill  mention 
that  he  brought  >ith  him  a  hive  of  bees,  probably 
the  first  in  the  new  settlement.  His  estate  was 
rated  at  £80. 

"Freemen,"  or  voters,  were  admitted  by  the 
General  Court,  and  not  by  the  towns ;  and  Whit- 
tier  was  not  made  a  freeman  until  May  23,  1666. 
As  various  circumstances  show  that  he  was  a  capa 
ble  man  and  a  good  citizen,  we  shall  not  err, 
probably,  in  supposing  that  the  long  delay  in  his 
admission  to  the  body  politic  was  owing  to  the  fact 
that  his  opinions  in  regard  to  religious  liberty  did 
not  accord  with  those  of  the  ruling  power.  It  is 
said  that  John  Rolfe,  his  brother-in-law,  was  from 
the  first  an  open  opponent  of  the  laws  framed  to 
secure  uniformity  of  faith  and  practice  in  the 
churches  of  the  Colony. 

Thomas  Whittier  was  certainly  a  man  of  blame 
less  conduct;  and  various  minutes  in  the  town 
records  attest  the  esteem  in  which  he  was  held 


Ancestors.  1 1 

during  his  long  and  tranquil  life.1  He  remained 
in  fellowship  with  the  church  in  Haverhill,  while 
it  is  certain  that  he  inclined  in  heart  to  the 
Quakers,  and  held  to  many  of  their  tenets.  It  is 
mentioned  that  during  the  Indian  wars,  in  which 
so  many  of  the  settlers  were  murdered,  it  was  the 
custom  for  neighbors  to  sleep  together  in  fortified 
houses ;  but  Whittier  constantly  refused  such  shel 
ter.  Relying  on  the  weapons  of  his  faith  alone, 
he  left  his  house  unguarded,  and  unprotected  with 
palisades  or  arms.  The  Indians  frequently  visited 
him;  and  in  the  stillness  of  evening  the  family 
often  heard  them  whispering  beneath  the  windows, 
and  sometimes  saw  their  grim  faces  peering  in 
upon  the  defenceless  group.  But  the  Indians  were 

1  In  1651  Thomas  Whittier  was  one  of  a  committee  to  lay  out 
the  bounds  of  the  plantation.  In  1652  he  was  one  of  a  large  num 
ber  of  petitioners  in  Haverhill  and  other  towns  in  the  Merrimac 
valley  for  the  pardon  of  Lieutenant  Robert  Pike.  The  General 
Court  had  passed  an  order  prohibiting  Joseph  Peasley  and  Thomas 
Macy,  who  were  afterwards  avowed  Quakers,  from  exhorting  on  the 
Lord's  Day  ;  and  Pike,  having  inveighed  against  the  order  as  un 
christian,  was  subjected  to  a  heavy  fine.  The  court  made  a  show 
of  punishing  some  of  the  petitioners,  also,  but  did  not  trouble  those 
in  Haverhill.  In  1669  Thomas  Wliittit-r  was  rh<>s<-n  constable  and 
compelled  to  serve,  much  against  his  will.  The  constable  was  an 
important  person  in  those  days.  In  1680  he  was  one  of  the  i-huivh 
committee  to  look  out  for  an  associate  minister.  In  1686  he  was 
appointed  to  run  disputed  and  uncertain  bounds  among  the  set 
tlers.  (Chase's  History  of  Haverhill. ) 


12  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

always  treated  civilly  and  even  hospitably  by  him, 
and  neither  he  nor  any  of  his  family  or  descen 
dants  was  ever  molested  by  them.  Yet  for  many 
years  houses  were  burned,  and  men,  women,  and 
children  were  tomahawked  and  scalped  in  all  the 
river  towns. 

He  settled  upon  a  tract  of  land  in  the  eastern 
part  of  the  town,  about  three  miles  from  the 
centre,  and  built  for  his  family  a  log-house,  in 
which  he  lived  for  a  great  many  years  ;  after 
which  he  erected  the  large  and  solidly  framed 
house,  half  a  mile  northwest  from  the  first,  which 
has  ever  since  been  the  home  of  a  line  of  his 
descendants,  and  in  which  the  poet  was  born.1 
The  house  was  of  two  stories  in  front,  while  in 
the  rear  the  roof  sloped  back  to  a  single  story. 
The  rear  part  of  the  roof  was  raised,  and  the 
house  otherwise  improved,  in  1801,  by  the  poet's 
father. 

Thomas  Whittier  died  November  28, 1696.  His 
wife  survived  him,  dying  in  1710.  There  were  ten 
children,  and  all  were  living  at  the  time  of  their 
mother's  death,  except  the  eldest,  Mary.  The 

1  The  date  of  the  erection  of  the  house  is  not  known.  Mr. 
Whittier  thinks  it  was  not  man}'  years  before  the  death  of  his 
ancestor.  In  a  sketch  written  some  years  ago,  he  stated  that 
the  house  was  built  "about  the  time  of  the  overthrow  of  the 
Stuarts"  (1688). 


Ancestors.  1 3 

eldest  son,  John,  administered  upon  the  estate. 
The  line  of  descent  to  the  poet  is  through  Joseph, 
the  youngest  child,  who  was  born  May  8,  16GO, 
and  was  married  .May  24,  1694,  to  Mary,  daughter 
of  Joseph  Peasley,  whose  residence  was  near  Rocks 
Bridge,  and  is  standing  to-day.1  In  this  alliance 
with  the  family  of  a  well-known  Quaker  we  recog 
nize  one  of  the  influences  which  led  the  Whittiers 
to  the  new  communion. 

Joseph  Whittier  died  December  25,  1739,  leav 
ing  nine  children,  of  whom  the  youngest,  also 
named  Joseph,  born  March  31,  1716,  was  the 
grandfather  of  the  poet.  Joseph  the  younger  was 
married  to  Sarah  Greenleaf,  of  Newbury,2  and 
died  October  10,  1796.  Eleven  children  were  the 
fruit  of  this  marriage.  John,  the  tenth  child,  was 
born  November  22,  1760,  and  was  married  Octo 
ber  3, 1804,  to  Abigail,  daughter  of  Joseph  Hussey, 
of  Somersworth  (now  Rollinsford),  N.  H.,  and 
died  in  June,  1832.  Abigail,  his  wife,  was  born  in 
1781,  and  died  December  27, 1857.  The  children 
of  this  marriage  were  four  in  number:  (1)  Mary, 

1  The  house  was  built  of  brick  brought  over  from  England. 

2  "  The  name  the  Gallic  exile  bore, 

St.  Halo,  from  thy  ancient  mart, 
Became  upon  our  Western  shore 

Greenleaf  for  Feuillevert." 
WHITTIER'S  poem  to  his  grand-nephew,  "A  Name." 


14  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

born  September  3,  1806;  (2)  JOHN  GREENLEAF, 
born  December  17,  1807 ;  (3)  Matthew  Frank 
lin,  born  July  18,  1812,  died  January  7,  1883; 
(4)  Elizabeth  Hussey,  born  December  7, 1815,  died 
September  3,  1864. 

The  line  of  descent,  it  will  be  seen,  was  almost 
continuously  through  younger  sons ;  so  that  there 
were  only  four  lives  from  1620  to  1807, —  a  very 
remarkable  fact.  It  is  generally  believed  that  the 
elder  children  of  a  family  are  likely  to  inherit  more 
bodily  vigor,  and  the  younger  more  intellectual 
power.  A  descent  derived  through  successive 
generations  of  younger  sons  might  be  expected  to 
leave  a  peculiar  impress  upon  the  vital  stamina 
and  mental  character  of  the  last  in  the  line ;  and  it 
is  perhaps  not  wholly  accidental  that  our  poet  has 
been  remarkable  for  an  extreme  sensitiveness 
coupled  with  nervous  force,  while  all  his  life  he 
has  been  in  delicate  health  and  has  suffered  from 
nervous  headache. 

Abigail  Hussey,  the  poet's  mother,  was  de 
scended  from  Christopher  Hussey,  a  fellow  towns 
man  with  Thomas  Whittier  in  Haverhill,  who 
afterwards  removed  to  Hampton,  N.  H.,  where  he 
married  the  daughter  of  the  Eev.  Stephen  Bach 
elor  (sometimes  written  Batcheldcr),  the  first  min 
ister  of  that  town.  The  Husseys  came  from  Bos- 


Ancestors.  1 5 

ton,  England,  and  were  people  of  distinction  both 
in  tin*  old  country  and  the  new.1 

The  tradition  is  that  Mr.  Bachelor  was  a  man 
of  remarkable  personal  presence,  and  was  particu 
larly  noticeable  on  account  of  his  wonderful  eyes. 
They  were  dark  and  deep-set  under  broad  arches, 
and  could  throw  lightning  glances  upon  occasion. 
For  more  than  a  century  the  "  Bachelor  eye  "  has 
been  proverbial  in  New  Hampshire  and  in  Essex 
County,  Massachusetts,  and  the  striking  feature 
has  been  steadily  perpetuated. 

The  resemblances  between  Whittier  and  Web 
ster  were  long  ago  observed  by  those  who  were 
unaware  of  any  relationship.  Though  unlike  in 
many  respects,  there  appeared  to  be  a  marked  simi- 
laiity  in  their  broad  and  massive  brows,  swarthy 
complexions,  and  expressive  eyes.  The  common 
characteristics  of  the  eyes  were  in  looks  of  inscru 
table  depth,  the  habit  of  shooting  out  sudden 
gleams,  and  the  power  of  tender  and  soul-full  ex 
pression  as  well.  It  is  now  known  that  not  only 
Whittier  and  Webster,  but  William  Pitt  Fessenden, 
Caleb  Gushing,  William  B.  Greene,  and  other  prom 
inent  men,  inherited  their  fine  features,  pcnetrai- 
in--  eyes,  and  gravity  of  manner  from  the  same 

1  Ilrv.  A.  P.  IV.ilxnly,  I).  I).,  in  a  memoir  written  for  the  North 
American  Review,  January,  18."»9. 


1 6  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

ancestor.  The  majestic  bearing  and  presence 
of  Webster  were  everywhere  known.  The  keen 
glances  of  Gushing,  the  eminent  scholar  and  diplo 
matist,  and  the  deeper,  haughtier  looks  of  Colonel 
Greene  are  well  remembered  in  Massachusetts.1 

1  Greene  was  educated  at  West  Point,  but  he  resigned  from  the 
army,  married  a  famous  beauty  and  heiress,  daughter  of  Robert  G. 
Shaw  of  Boston,  and  was  for  some  years  a  Unitarian  preacher.  In 
the  war  of  the  Rebellion  he  commanded  the  14th  Massachusetts 
Regiment  of  Heavy  Artillery.  He  was  an  able  writer  and  an 
original  thinker. 

In  the  "  Genealogy  of  the  "Whittier  Family  "  there  is  a  letter  to 
the  editor,  D.  B.  Whittier,  upon  this  subject,  not  without  interest. 

JAMAICA  PLAIN,  MASS.,  Sept.  24,  1873. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  Yours  of  September  20th  is  just  received,  and  I 
reply  to  it  at  once.  My  grandfather,  on  my  mother's  side,  was  the 
Rev.  William  Batchelder,  of  Haverhill,  Mass.  In  the  year  1838 
I  had  a  conversation,  on  a  matter  of  military  business,  with  the 
Hon.  Daniel  Webster;  and,  to  my  astonishment,  Mr.  Webster  treated 
me  as  a  kinsman.  My  mother  afterwards  explained  his  conduct  by 
telling  me  that  one  of  Mr.  Webster's  female  ancestors  was  a  Batch- 
elder.  In  1838  or  1839,  or  thereabouts,  I  met  Schoolmaster  Coffin  on 
a  Mississippi  steamboat  near  Baton  Rouge.  The  captain  of  the  boat 
told  me,  confidentially,  that  Coffin  was  engaged  in  a  dangerous 
mission  respecting  some  slaves,  and  inquired  whether  my  aid  and 
countenance  could  be  counted  on,  in  favor  of  Coffin,  in  case  violence 
should  be  offered  him.  This  he  did  because  I  was  on  the  boat  as  a 
military  man,  and  in  uniform.  When  Coffin  found  he  could  count 
on  me,  he  came  and  talked  with  me,  and  finally  told  me  he  had 
been  hired  by  Daniel  Webster  to  go  to  Ipswich,  and  there  look  up 
Mr.  Webster's  ancestry.  He  spoke  of  the  Rev.  Stephen  Batchelder 
of  New  Hampshire,  and  said  that  Daniel  Webster,  John  G.  Whittier, 
and  myself  were  related  by  Batchelder  blood.  I  did  not  feel  at  all 
ashamed  of  my  relatives.  In  1841  or  1842  Mrs.  Crosby,  of  Hallo- 


Ancestors.  1 7 

well,  Mo.,  who  had  the  charge  of  my  grandfather  when  he  was  a 
boy,  and  knew  all  about  the  family,  told  me  that  Daniel  Wcl^trr 
was  a  Batchelder,  that  she  had  known  his  father  intimately,  and 
knew  Daniel  when  lie  was  a  boy.  At  the  time  of  my  conversation 
with  her,  Aunt  Crosby  might  have  been  anywhere  from  seventy- 
five  to  eighty-five  years  of  age. 

Wlit-ii  I  was  a  boy,  at  (say)  about  the  year  1827  or  1828,  I  used 
to  go  often  to  the  house  of  J.  G.  Whittier's  father,  a  little  out  of 
the  village  (now  city)  of  Haverhill,  Mass.  There  was  a  Mrs. 
Hussey  in  the  family,  who  baked  the  best  squash-pies  I  ever  ate, 
and  knew  how  to  make  the  pine  floors  shine  like  looking-glass. 

This  is,  I  think,  all  the  information,  in  answer  to  your  request, 
that  I  am  competent  to  give  you. 

Yours  respectfully, 

WILLIAM  BATCHELDER  GREENE. 


CHAPTER  II. 

PURITANS   AND   QUAKERS. 

Fox's  Preaching  a  Protest  against  Formalism.  —  Puritans  Intoler 
ant  because  not  Enlightened.  —  Splendor  of  Modern  Worship 
unapostolical.  — Quakerism  an  Inward  Life.  — Stripes,  Imprison 
ment,  and  Death.  —  Quaker  Influences  in  the  Whittier  Family. 

TTTHEN  Thomas  Whittier  settled  in  Haverhill, 
George  Fox  had  just  begun  his  career  as 
iconoclast  and  apostle,  but  the  advocates  of  the 
new  doctrine  did  not  appear  in  New  England  until 
a  few  years  later.  The  body  and  form  of  Quaker 
ism  came  from  Fox,  but  the  soul  of  the  movement 
was  not  evolved  from  the  thought  of  any  one  man. 
The  religious  portion  of  the  English  people,  exclud 
ing  the  adherents  of  the  despicable  Charles  II.,  as 
well  as  the  church  which  was  basely  subservient 
to  such  an  impious  head,  had  long  been  in  a 
state  of  ferment  in  regard  both  to  doctrines  and 
observances,  and  many,  like  Fox,  had  been  seeking 
for  a  purely  spiritual  worship.  The  student  of  the 
life  and  times  of  Milton  will  remember  with  what 


Puritans  and  Quakers.  19 

fierce  zeal  religious  disputes  were  conducted,  and 
that  dogmas  which  in  our  time  are  attacked  and 
defended  without  a  flutter  of  the  pulse  on  either 
side  were  then  bound  as  with  the  heart-strings  of 
believers. 

While  a  facile  courtier  like  Dryden  might  one 
day  ctagizc  the  great  Cromwell,  then  welcome  the 
restoration  of  the  licentious  Charles  and  the  Estab 
lished  Church,  and  afterwards  defend  the  doctrines 
of  Rome  in  order  to  please  the  gloomy  tyrant, 
James  II.,  the  fervid  zealots  of  conventicles  and 
the  preachers  of  the  highways  and  hedges  were, 
all  of  them,  ready  to  die  for  any  iota  of  "  the  faith 
once  delivered  to  the  saints,"  as  they  held  it.1 

An  exact  classification  of  the  dissenters  of  the 
seventeenth  century  would  be  impossible  ;  but  so  far 
as  concerns  New  England,  they  might  be  approxi 
mately  divided  into  Independents  or  Puritans,  dis 
ciples  of  Fox,  and  the  followers  of  Roger  Williams. 
The  Quakers  and  the  Baptists  were  insignificant 

1  "  While  Christianity  was  struggling  against  innumerable  oppo 
nents,  it  displayed  a  life  and  an  energy  which  diminished  in  pro 
portion  as  the  opposition  was  withdrawn.  .  .  .  Every  religion,  after 
being  established,  loses  much  of  its  vitality.  .  .  .  What  was 
formerly  a  living  truth  dwindles  into  a  dead  dogma.  ...  Of  all 
evils,  torpor  is  the  most  deadly.  Give  us  paradox,  give  us  error, 
give  us  what  you  will,  so  that  you  save  us  from  stagnation.  It  is 
the  cold  spirit  of  routine  which  is  the  nightshade  of  our  nature." - 
1U«  KI.K,  In  his  review  of  Mill  on  Liberty. 


2O  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

minorities,  and  both  were  hunted  out  of  the  Colony 
like  enemies  of  the  human  race. 

The  reader  may  like  to  renew  his  acquaintance 
with  Carlyle's  vigorous  sketch  of  George  Fox,  cop 
ied  from  "  Sartor  Resartus  :  "  — 

" '  Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  incident  in  Modern 
History,'  says  Teufelsdrockh,  *  is  not  the  Diet  of  Worms, 
still  less  the  Battle  of  Austerlitz,  Waterloo,  Peterloo,  or 
any  other  battle ;  but  an  incident  passed  carelessly  over 
by  most  historians,  and  treated  with  some  degree  of  ridi 
cule  by  others :  namely,  George  Fox's  making  to  himself 
a  suit  of  Leather.  This  man,  the  first  of  the  Quakers, 
and  by  trade  a  Shoemaker,  was  one  of  those,  to  whom, 
under  ruder  or  purer  form,  the  Divine  Idea  of  the  Uni 
verse  is  pleased  to  manifest  itself;  and,  across  all  the 
hulls  of  Ignorance  and  earthly  Degradation,  shine  through, 
in  unspeakable  Awfulness,  unspeakable  Beauty,  on  their 
souls :  who  therefore  are  rightly  accounted  Prophets, 
God-possessed ;  or  even  Gods,  as  in  some  periods  it  has 
chanced.  Sitting  in  his  stall ;  working  on  tanned  hides, 
amid  pincers,  paste-horns,  rosin,  swine-bristles,  and  a 
nameless  flood  of  rubbish,  this  youth  had,  nevertheless, 
a  Living  Spirit  belonging  to  him;  also  an  antique  la- 
spired  Volume,  through  which,  as  through  a  window,  it 
could  look  upwards,  and  discern  its  celestial  Home.  The 
task  of  a  daily  pair  of  shoes,  coupled  even  with  some 
prospect  of  victuals,  and  an  honourable  Mastership  in 
Cordvvainery,  and  perhaps  the  post  of  Thirdborough  in 
his  hundred,  as  the  crown  of  long  faithful  sewing,  —  was 
nowise  satisfaction  enough  to  such  a  mind ;  but  ever 


Puritans  and  Quakers.  21 

amid  the  boring  and  hammering  came  tones  from  that 
far  country,  came  Splendours  and  Terrors ;  for  this  poor 
Cordwainer,  as  ire  >aid,  was  a  Mar.  ;  and  the  Temple 
of  Immensity,  win-rein  as  Man  lu-  had  been  sent  to 
minister,  was  full  of  holy  mystery  to  him. 

"  'The  clergy  of  the  neighbourhood,  the  ordained  Watch 
ers  and  Interpreters  of  that  same  holy  mystery,  listened  with 
unaffected  tedium  to  his  consultations,  and  advi>ed  him, 
as  the  solution  of  such  doubts,  to  "  drink  beer  and  dance 
with  the  girls."  Blind  leaders  of  the  blind!  For  what 
end  were  their  tithes  levied  and  eaten  ;  for  what  were 
their  shovel-hats  scooped  out,  and  their  surplices  and  cas 
sock-aprons  girt  on;  and  such  a  church-repairing,  and 
chaffering,  and  organing,  and  other  racketing,  held  over 
that  spot  of  God's  earth,  —  if  Man  were  but  a  Patent  Di 
gester,  and  the  Belly  with  its  adjuncts  the  grand  Reality  ? 
Fox  turned  from  them,  with  tears  and  a  sacred  scorn,  back 
to  his  leather-parings  and  his  Bible.  Mountains  of  en 
cumbrance,  higher  than  JEtna,  had  been  heaped  over  that 
spirit  :  but  it  was  a  spirit,  and  would  not  lie  buried  there. 
Through  long  days  and  nights  of  silent  agony,  it  struggled 
and  wrestled,  with  a  man's  force,  to  be  free  :  how  its 
prison-mountains  heaved  and  swayed  tumultuously,  as  the 
giant  spirit  shook  them  to  this  hand  and  that,  and  emerged 
into  the  light  of  heaven  !  That  Leicester  shoe-shop,  had 
men  known  it,  was  a  holier  place  than  any  Vatican  or 
Loretto  shrine.  —  "So  bandaged,  and  hampered,  and 
hemmed  in,"  groaned  he,  "  with  thousand  requisitions,  ob- 
liirations,  straps,  tatters,  and  tagrags,  I  can  neither  see  nor 
move :  not  my  own  am  I,  but  the  World's ;  and  Time 
flies  fast,  and  Heaven  is  high,  and  Hell  is  deep:  Man  : 


22  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

bethink  thee  if  thou  hast  power  of  Thought !  Why  not ; 
what  binds  me  here  ?  Want,  want !  —  Ha,  of  what  ?  Will 
all  the  shoe-wages  under  the  Moon  ferry  me  across  into 
that  far  Land  of  Light  ?  Only  Meditation  can,  and  devout 
Prayer  to  God.  I  will  to  the  woods  :  the  hollow  of  a 
tree  will  lodge  me,  wild-berries  feed  me  ;  and  for  clothes, 
cannot  I  stitch  myself  one  perennial  suit  of  Leather !  " 

"  '  Let  some  living  Angelo  or  Rosa,  with  seeing  eye  and 
understanding  heart,  picture  George  Fox  on  that  morning 
when  he  spreads-out  his  cutting-board  for  the  last  time, 
and  cuts  cowhides  by  unwonted  patterns,  and  stitches 
them  together  into  one  continuous  all-including  Case,  the 
farewell  service  of  his  awl !  Stitch  away,  thou  noble 
Fox  :  every  prick  of  that  little  instrument  is  pricking 
into  the  heart  of  slavery,  and  World-worship,  and  the 
Mammon-god.  Thy  elbows  jerk,  as  in  strong  swimmer- 
strokes,  and  every  stroke  is  bearing  thee  across  the 
Prison-ditch,  within  which  Vanity  holds  her  Workhouse 
and  Ragfair,  into  lands  of  true  Liberty  ;  were  the  work 
done,  there  is  in  broad  Europe  one  Free  Man,  and  thou 
art  he  ! '  " 

Now,  at  the  distance  of  two  centuries,  the  ques 
tion  between  a  symbolic  baptism  and  the  actual 
immersion  of  a  convert  appears  a  very  small 
matter.  We  cannot  see  how  for  the  one  form  or 
the  other  Christian  men  should  doom  their  fellows 
to  death,  or  to  a  banishment  which  then  meant 
delivering  them  over  to  the  clubs  and  knives  of 
savages.  But  year  by  year  the  Christian  liberty 


Puritans  and  Quakers.  23 

for  which  Roger  Williams  contended  has  become 
a  h inker  and  nobler  doctrine  in  the  minds  of  men, 
and  there  is  no  son  of  the  persecuting  Puritans 
who  does  not  hold  the  founder  of  Rhode  Island  in 
reverence. 

In  like  manner  the  opinions  of  men  have  changed 
in  regard  to  the  once  despised  Quakers.  What 
is  to  be  the  future  development  of  Christianity 
no  one  can  say.  If  its  energies  and  resources  are 
to  be  expended  in  building  gorgeous  temples,  fur 
nished  with  luxury  and  adorned  with  chefs-d'oeuvre 
of  art,  wherein  professional  singers  and  musi 
cians  are  employed  to  display  their  accomplish 
ments,  and  great  men  give  scholarly  lectures  to 
people  of  the  highest  fashion,  that  will  be  one 
thing.  But  if  Christianity  reverts  to  its  primitive 
type,  its  home  will  be  once  more  in  "  upper  cham 
bers,"  among  humble  and  sincere  believers  who 
are  alive  with  the  Divine  love,  and  from  whose 
hearts  worship  arises  as  naturally  as  fragrance 
from  flowers,  —  whose  songs  and  ascriptions  of 
praise  are  not  echoes  from  either  the  opera  or 
the  mass,  —  who  are  not  "  conformed "  to  the 
world  but  are  "  unspotted "  from  it,  and  who  live 
(in  Milton's  austere  phrase) 

"  As  ever  in  their  great  Taskmaster's  eye." 
If  primitive  Christianity  shall  ever  have  a  revival, 


24  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

it  will  be  as  great  a  surprise  and  shock  to  the 
affluent  and  comfortable  as  were  the  simple  truths 
of  Jesus  to  the  great  and  learned  of  his  day.  And 
though  we  are  far  from  believing  that  all  truth 
was  revealed  to  Fox,  or  that  the  gentle  and  ex 
cellent  Friends  have  the  exclusive  possession  of  all 
indisputable  doctrines,  or  that  they  are  wise  in 
banning  so  many  of  the  innocent  enjoyments  which 
are  proper  to  the  social  nature  of  man,  yet  we 
shall  probably  find  that  in  their  teachings,  and 
especially  in  their  lives,  they  exemplify  the  spirit 
of  the  Evangelists  and  Apostles  more  fully  than 
any  sect  of  professing  Christians. 

The  dominant  class  were  just  as  sincere,  God 
fearing,  and  enthusiastic  as  the  Quakers  whom 
they  persecuted.  But  they  had,  many  of  them, 
been  trained  to  the  use  of  arms  in  the  civil  wars, 
and  their  minds  had  taken  on  a  military  habit. 
In  seeking  for  the  Divine  guidance  in  their  many 
desperate  straits,  they  had  dwelt  largely  on  the  les 
sons  and  parallels  of  Jewish  history.  The  bush 
that  burned  and  was  not  consumed  was  perhaps 
more  frequently  in  mind  than  the  emblem  of  man's 
redemption.  They  thought  habitually  more  of 
conquering  Joshua  than  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  — 
of  triumphant  Jael  with  her  nail  and  hammer, 
rather  than  the  Mater  dolorosa.  Cotton  Mather 


Puritans  and  Quakers.  25 

in  his  "  Magnalia,"  Ward,  in  his  "  Simple  Cobler 
of  Aggawam,"  and  indeed  all  the  writers  of  the 
century,  completely  show  the  Hebraistic  temper  of 
the  Puritan  church.  They  were  uncompromising 
because  tolerance  of  error  was  crime;  for  them 
tin -iv  \vas  no  "dividual  essence  in  truth."  And 
though  we  must  in  justice  decide  for  them  as 
against  the  corrupt  or  worldly  body  they  had  left, 
still  we  cannot  but  allow  the  force  of  Butler's  en 
venomed  satire :  — 

"  That  stubborn  crew 
Of  errant  saints  whom  all  men  grant 
To  be  the  true  Church  Militant ; 
Such  as  do  build  their  faith  upon 
The  holy  text  of  pike  and  gun ; 
Decide  all  controversies  by 
Infallible  artillery ; 
And  prove  their  doctrine  orthodox 
By  apostolic  blows  and  knocks." 

The  persecution  of  the  Quakers  has  been  con 
sidered  in  elaborate  articles,  on  the  one  side  and 
the  other,  by  our  poet  and  the  Rev.  George  E. 
Ellis  of  Boston,  upon  the  historical  basis  of  "  The 
King's  Missive."  It  is  not  within  the  province 
of  this  work  to  renew  that  discussion.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  show  in  an  adequate  light  the  position 
of  Quakers  in  the  Colony  so  far  as  may  serve  to 
illustrate  the  poems  of  Whittier.  And  as  he  is 


26  John  Greenkaf  Whittier. 

not  a  sentimentalist,  but  a  man  of  deep  and  abiding 
convictions,  stern  in  allegiance  to  duty  and  un 
bending  to  worldly  courtesy,  it  is  necessary  for 
the  reader  to  try  to  fix  in  mind  the  sincerity, 
spiritual-mindedness,  and  utter  self-abnegation  of 
the  early  Quakers,  in  order  to  appreciate  the  surg 
ing  tides  of  feeling  and  the  noble  earnestness  of 
these  poetical  tributes. 

We  are  not  to  pass  judgment  upon  the  Puritans 
as  statesmen.  As  has  been  observed,  they  had  a 
difficult  part  to  play.  To  keep  terms  with  a  hostile 
and  jealous  home  government,  to  repel  murderous 
savages  and  French  Canadian  guerillas,  to  main 
tain  amity  with  the  other  Colonies,  to  curb  the 
immorality  of  alien  residents,  and  to  keep  heresy 
out  of  the  churches,  required  an  ubiquitous  and 
sleepless  vigilance.  Toleration  in  their  minds  was 
no  less  a  crime  than  heresy.1 

The  disciples  of  Fox  came  as  missionaries,  with 
full  hearts  and  new-born  zeal.  The  core  and  sub- 

1  "  These  absolute  religions,  like  Islamism  and  Judaism,  allow  no 
participation  :  if  they  do  not  reign,  they  call  themselves  persecuted. 
If  they  feel  themselves  protected,  they  become  exacting,  and  seek 
to  render  life  impossible  to  other  worships  about  them."  —  KENAN, 
English  Conferences :  Rome  and  Christianity. 

"  I  dare  averre  that  God  doth  no  where  in  his  word  tolerate 
Christian  States  to  give  Tolerations  to  such  adversaries  of  his  Truth, 
if  they  .have  power  in  their  hands  to  suppresse  them."  —  REV. 
NATHANIEL  WARD,  The  Simple  Cobler  of  Aggawam,  1645-47. 


Piuntans  and  Quakers.  27 

stance  of  Christianity  was  all  in  all  for  them ;  the 
traditions  that  enveloped  it  and  the  forms  that 
had  been  set  up  around  it  were  naught.  Steeples, 
pulpits  and  pc\vs,  clerical  manners  and  dress,  titles 
of  reverend  or  rabbi,  salaried  expounders  of  the 
Word,  outward  rites  of  baptism  and  communion, 
formal  service  of  song,  pagan  names  of  months 
and  days,  degrees  and  ranks  among  men,  orna 
ments  in  dress,  specious  flowers  of  speech,  —  all 
but  the  simple,  central  doctrine  of  faith  in  the  all- 
Father,  the  Saviour  and  Mediator,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit,  the  Comforter,  they  put  aside  as  profane 
or  useless. 

The  Puritans  had  rejected  the  stately  service  of 
the  English  Church,  its  gradations  of  priesthood, 
its  organs  and  responses,  the  distinctive  dress  of 
its  public  servants,  and  the  pathetic  symbol  of  the 
cross.  They  had  banished  the  festivities  of  Christ 
mas,  the  penitence  of  Lent,  the  rejoicings  of 
Easter,  and  had  put  the  whole  zodiac  of  saints' 
days  in  lasting  eclipse.  But  still  they  had  forms. 
The  phrase  "  decently  and  in  order  "  meant  much  ; 
just  as  the  word  "formally"  in  the  constitution  of 
our  State  has  stood  in  the  way  of  reform  in  mm- 
iual  procedure.  Their  "Sabbath"  —  quite  differ 
ent  from  Sunday  —  was  celebrated  according  to 
unalterable  rules.  Worshippers  were  assigned 


28  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

places  according  to  social  rank.  A  scholar  or  a 
gentleman  was  "  Mr.  "  ;  the  farmer  or  laborer  was 
merely  "  Goodman."  This,  after  the  magistrates 
and  other  dignitaries  were  provided  for,  was  the 
main  criterion  in  "  seating  the  meeting."  Pastors 
were  elevated  in  pulpits ;  and  though  at  first  the 
people  were  summoned  to  worship  by  blast  of  horn 
or  beating  of  drum,  yet  as  soon  as  wealth  increased, 
the  primitive  log  house  gave  way  for  a  more  impos 
ing  edifice,  provided  with  a  steeple  and  bell.  But 
the  one  striking  fact  was  that  the  minister,  or  ser 
vant,  upheld  by  the  local  magistrate,  was  as  abso 
lute  as  the  Pope  himself  throughout  the  limits  of 
the  town. 

Against  all  this  the  Quakers  protested,  and  de 
claimed  as  Paul  might  have  done.  They  inveighed 
against  all  forms  as  fetters  of  the  free  soul.  The 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  within  you.  The  spirit  of  God 
dwells  in  your  hearts,  and  not  in  temples  made 
with  hands.  The  life  of  the  Christian  is  inward. 
Nothing  should  come  between  the  soul  and  the 
Divine  Visitant.  To  pray,  teach,  or  prophesy,  one 
needs  only  the  prompting  from  within.  There  is 
no  class  of  Levites,  to  be  fed  by  the  brethren,  for 
vicarious  prayer  and  praise.  Tithes  and  first-fruits 
were  abolished,  with  bloody  sacrifices.  Give  your 
cheek  to  the  smiter,  and  when  reviled  revile  not 


Puritans  and  Quakers.  29 

again.  Cannon  and  gunpowder  came  from  the 
bottomlos  pit.  Shed  no  blood  even  in  defence  of 
your  life.  Conform  not  to  the  changing  fashions 
of  the  vain  and  ungodly.  Ruffles,  chains,  bands, 
and  rings  are  badges  of  servitude  to  the  prince  of 
this  world.  Xcithcr  shall  you  swear,  whether  in 
an-vr,  or  at  the  command  of  a  judge.  Hath  not 
the  Judge  of  all  said,  "  Swear  not  at  all "  ?  Call  no 
man  master,  or  its  mutilated  diminutive,  "  Mr." 

But,  truly,  to  give  a  faithful  copy  of  a  Quaker's 
profession  of  faith  and  duty  is  so  much  like  repeat 
ing  the  New  Testament,  that  readers  perhaps  may 
choose  to  read  it  there  for  themselves. 

We  can  readily  see  that  such  a  harangue  as  is 
intimated  above,  filled  out  with  good  scriptural 
objurgation,  might  affect  ministers  and  magistrates 
very  unpleasantly.  Though  the  very  soul  of  early 
Christianity  might  pervade  it,  it  would  tend  to  frus 
trate  the  hopes  and  plans  of  the  leaders  for  such  a 
state  as  they  had  in  mind.  A  strong,  self-protect 
ing,  compact  government  was  needed,  not  a  loose 
aggregation  of  visionaries,  without  subordination 
and  without  a  head. 

The  outward  form  of  the  Puritan  commonweal tli 
was  simple  enough.  One  house  at  first,  afterwards 
two,  —  mostly  composed  of  local  magistrates, — 
formed  the  General  Court.  Then  there  was  a 


30  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

governor  and  military  officers,  constables,  and  the 
like.  But  these  temporal  magnates  had  only  the 
semblance  of  power ;  they  were  only  the  body-guard 
of  the  church,  whose  elders  and  ministers  held  un 
questioned  sway  over  the  people,  their  liberties  and 
laws.  So  omnipotent  a  theocracy  has  not  been 
seen  for  ages.  Woe  to  offenders,  especially  against 
doctrine  or  discipline  !  If  the  colonial  statutes  and 
orders  of  the  court,  or  the  laws  of  England,  fur 
nished  no  adequate  penalty,  the  Pentateuch  was  an 
exhaustless  armory.  This  secret  prompting  from 
within  gave  to  Puritan  jurisprudence  a  terrible 
edge.  There  might  be  instances  where  a  tender 
hearted  magistrate  would  have  relented;  but  the 
unseen  clerical  chancellor  was  inaccessible  and 
pitiless. 

In  no  other  way  can  we  account  for  such  in 
humanity  as  drove  Ann  Hutchinson  into  the  wil 
derness  to  die.  She  had  violated  no  law,  unless, 
indeed,  we  allow  the  force  of  a  criminal  statute  to 
an  obiter  dictum  of  St.  Paul :  "  Let  your  women 
keep  silence  in  the  churches  ;  for  it  is  not  per 
mitted  unto  them  to  speak."  Few  people  think 
Paul  infallible  on  this  point.  As  to  doctrine,  it 
would  be  difficult  for  any  but  a  casuist  to  make 
clear  the  difference,  if  any  there  was,  between  this 
able  woman's  expositions  and  those  of  her  clerical 


Puritans  ami  Quakers.  31 

critics.  The  examination  has  hcc-n  preserved,  and 
its  subtleties  arc  as  perplexing  as  the  demonstra 
tion  of  "  the  identity  of  subject  and  object." 

Well  or  ill  founded,  the  decisions  of  the  clergy 
were  both  law  and  fate  for  Quakers  and  other 
dissidents.  Logic  might  be  at  fault,  but  the  visible 
judge  was  a  rock.  Constables  were  "  not  to  make 
reply,"  but  lay  on  the  lash  when  bid.  A  protest,  or 
even  a  muttered  complaint,  might,  as  in  the  case 
of  Lieutenant  Robert  Pike,  be  rewarded  by  a  fine 
or  the  stocks. 

It  is  not  easy  to  overestimate  the  influence  upon 
the  sufferers  of  proscription  for  opinion's  sake  — 
for  Christ's  sake,  we  should  say  —  when  it  has 
extended  over  the  lives  of  generations.  Each  firm 
and  faithful  Friend  came  under  the  same  hard 
conditions.  True,  the  sun  shone  for  him,  flowers 
bloomed,  and  fertile  fields  rejoiced  him ;  the  hills 
imaged  his  steadfast  faith;  the  solemn  heavens 
drew  his  soul  in  adoration  ;  God,  brotherhood,  and 
duty  were  his  joys.  But  the  world  swept  by  with 
something  of  pity  and  more  of  disdain.  The  min 
ister,  the  doctor,  and  the  'squire,  the  old-fashioned 
village  trinity,  wrapped  themselves  in  importance, 
and  regarded  him  as  partly  fanatic  and  always 
dangerous.  At  the  beginning,  the  public  preach 
ing  of  a  known  Quaker  was  a  sure  course  to  mar- 


32  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

tyrdom.  It  sometimes  comes  up  to  us  as  a  novel 
and  startling  fact  that  for  preaching  according  to 
conscience  men  and  women  were  flogged  with 
knotted  whips,  chained  in  loathsome  dungeons,  half 
starved,  and  banished  under  pain  of  death,  —  nay 
more,  that  men  of  blameless  lives  and  of  the  very 
spirit  of  the  Lord  Jesus  were  actually  hanged  as 
malefactors  on  Boston  Common !  Do  the  trees  re 
member  the  burden  they  bore  ?  Are  the  relics  of 
the  martyrs  now  dust  among  their  roots  ?  If  the 
world  of  nature  ever  sorrowed  for  the  woes  and 
crimes  of  man,  what  sounds  should  we  hear  on  the 
winds  ?  If  the  Divine  Vengeance  moved  in  wrath 
and  storm,  should  we  not  wonder  that  tempests 
have  not  overthrown  the  accursed  trees? 

When  by  the  efforts  of  a  reluctant  will  these  ter 
rible  scenes  are  reproduced  in  imagination,  we  can 
only  wonder  at  the  calm  and  unrevengeful  spirit 
which  has  characterized  the  Quakers.  And  can 
we  wonder  that  our  poet's  voice  at  times  has  the 
lofty  tone  of  an  ancient  prophet  ? 

In  time  the  penal  statutes  against  heresy  were 
permitted  to  slumber.  But  meanwhile  the  fiery 
zeal  of  Quaker  and  other  innovators  had  cooled. 
Neither  reformers  nor  volcanoes  continue  in  erup 
tion  beyond  a  certain  period.  For  many  reasons 
the  Quakers  made  few  proselytes.  They  made  too 


Puritans  and  Quakers.  33 

many  demands  upon  self-indulgent  human  nature, 
and  their  worship  was  so  entirely  spiritual  that 
there  was  nothing  for  common  minds  to  take  hold 
of.  They  gave  less  and  less  effort  to  the  thankless 
task  of  turning  Puritans  from  the  errors  of  their 
wavs,  and  bestowed  their  labors  more  among  their 
own  communities.  They  were  no  less  sincere  than 
was  Fox,  and  if  persecuted  would  go  to  judgment 
and  execution  as  courageously  as  did  the  martyrs 
in  Boston;  but  there  was  no  longer  occasion,  as 
opposition  was  dying  out  on  both  sides.  Still,  the 
old  prejudice  lingered,  and  the  severe  costume  of 
a  Quaker,  like  the  beard  of  a  Jew,  continued  to 
be  the  badge  of  an  alien  race.  Time  softened  the 
hearts  of  bigots,  and  wore  off  the  sharp  edges  of 
dogmas ;  but  this  was  not  until  Church  and  State 
had  been  divorced,  and  not  until  the  Quaker's 
memory  of  the  days  of  bitterness  had  become  as 
unchanging  as  his  sad-colored  garments.  He  could 
say,  and  he  can  still  say,  in  no  unchristian  spirit,  — 

"  Good  by,  proud  world  !  I  'm  going  home ; 
Thou  'rt  not  my  friend,  and  I  'in  not  thine." 

To  return  to  Thomas  Whittier  after  this  long 
digression.  Although  he  appears  to  have  inclined 
to  the  new  doctrine,  and  may  h;i\e  received  it  in 
his  heart,  he  did  not,  so  far  as  is  known,  openly 
break  with  the  church.  But  his  sympathies  were 

3 


34  J°hn  G-reenleaf  Whittier. 

no  secret  among  his  neighbors.  His  children, 
probably,  belonged  to  the  Society  of  Friends.  His 
son,  Joseph,  ancestor  of  our  poet,  married  the 
daughter  of  Joseph  Peasley,  the  Quaker  already 
mentioned.  Peasley  and  Macy  had  been  exhorting 
openly  or  secretly  from  1652  to  1659.  In  the  lat 
ter  year  four  Quaker  missionaries  from  Salem 
visited  the  river  towns,  including  Haverhill,  and 
there  is  little  doubt  that  Thomas  Whittier  and  his 
family  "  heard  them  gladly."  The  names  of  three 
are  known :  Edward  Wharton,  William  Robinson, 
and  Marmaduke  Stevenson.  The  two  latter  were 
hanged  shortly  after  on  Boston  Common. 

Thomas  Macy  was  at  that  time  a  resident  of 
Salisbury,  and  these  travelling  Quakers  called  at 
his  house  for  rest  and  refreshment.  He  was  prose 
cuted,  under  the  law  of  1657,  for  entertaining  them, 
and  appeared  to  answer.  His  plaintive  letter  to 
the  General  Court  has  been  preserved.1  -He  was 
ordered  to  pay  a  fine  of  thirty  shillings,  but  he 
managed  to  escape  after  sentence  without  payment, 
and  put  out  to  sea  in  an  open  boat.  He  sailed  past 
the  capes  and  arrived  in  safety  at  the  island  of 
Nantucket,  where  he  took  up  his  abode.  This  inci 
dent  forms  the  basis  of  one  of  Whittier' s  early  and 
best  known  ballads,  "  The  Exiles." 

1  Coffin's  History  of  Xewbury,  p.  63. 


Puritans  and  Quakers.  35 

It  is  not  likely  that  all  the  members  of  the 
Whittier  family  were  Quakers.  In  the  History 
of  Haverhill  we  find  mention  of  Whittiers  with 
military  titles.  Particular  mention  is  made  of  a 
Colonel  Whittier  who  was  offered  command  of 
a  regiment  to  go  against  Ticonderoga  during  the 
French  War.  But  from  the  earliest  time  to  the 
present  most  of  the  name  have  been  known  as 
Quakers. 


CHAPTER    III. 

A   QUAKER  HOME. 

The  old  Whittier  House,  its  Location  and  Surroundings.  —  The 
Family  as  sketched  in  "  Snow  Bound."  —  Letter  of  C.  C.  Chase, 
a  Neighbor  in  Early  Days.  —  Harriet  Livermore. 


rFlHE  Whittier  house  is  more  open  to  view  from 
the  main  road  than  it  was  sixty  years  ago. 
The  woods  that  hemmed  it  in  have  been  mostly 
cleared,  enlarging  greatly  the  fields  of  pasture  and 
meadow.  The  house  faces  southward,  and  in 
front  is  a  grass-plat  sloping  towards  a  small  but 
faithful  brook.  Here  on  this  sunny  slope  it  was 
that  "  once  a  garden  smiled  ;  "  and  at  its  western 
corner  rose  the  tall  well-sweep,  since  displaced  by 
the  prosaic  pump.  The  little  brook  comes  from 
a  marshy  tract  on  a  higher  level,  and  gurgles 
pleasantly  through  a  narrow  rocky  ravine,  in  which 
are  the  rude  remains  of  a  dam  ;  although  one  must 
needs  wonder  that  such  a  prattling  rivulet  could 
ever  have  mustered  the  force  to  turn  a  mill-wheel. 
The  brook  with  its  natural  fringe  of  bushes,  and 


A  Quaker  Home.  37 

the  abrupt  bank  of  trees  behind,  forms  a  charming 
scene  in  the  still  valley.  Whittier  says  that  in 
his  youth  the  little  brook  used  to  be  very  noisy ; 
"  it  foamed,  rippled,  and  laughed."  Little  Brook 
runs  into  Country  Brook.  "  On  its  banks  we  could 
always  find  the  earliest  and  latest  wild-flowers, 
from  the  pale  blue  three-lobed  hepatica,  and  small, 
delicate  wood-anemone,  to  the  yellow  bloom  of  the 
w itch-hazel,  burning  in  the  leafless  October  woods." 
The  brook  afforded  fine  fishing,  to  which  Uncle 
Moses  was  much  devoted.  Whittier  says  that  one 
of  the  great  pleasures  of  his  brother  and  himself 
was  to  accompany  the  good  uncle  on  his  expedi 
tions.  Looking  beyond  the  brook  and  the  strip  of 
forest,  we  see  the  indications  of  a  travelled  road 
running  east  and  west ;  and  rising  abruptly  from 
its  farther  side  is  Job's  Hill,  a  smooth,  round 
grassy  knoll,  perhaps  three  hundred  feet  in  height. 
From  this  eminence  there  is  a  beautiful  view  of 
the  country  around.  The  foliage  is  rich  and  varied 
in  the  immediate  vicinity,  and  the  country  is  seen 
to  consist  of  softly  rounded  elevations, —  broad 
and  flattened  domes, —  lovely  in  color,  and  re 
lieved  by  charming  groups  of  trees.  Westward 
lit-s  Lake  Kenoza,  half  obscured,  half  revea !«•«!, 
among  clumps  and  thickets.  Toward  tin-  north 
is  a  narrow  but  distant  opening  into  the  moun- 


38  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

tain  region,  through  which  the  Saddleback  of 
Deerfield,  N.  H.,  is  seen  on  the  far  horizon.  On 
fine  days,  looking  to  the  northeast,  the  pyramidal 
form  of  Agamenticus  can  be  traced  against  the  sky. 
It  is  in  the  autumn  that  this  landscape  is  seen  at 
its  best.  The  varieties  of  trees  are  numerous,  fur 
nishing  a  wealth  of  contrasts  and  complements  of 
color.  Prominent  are  the  oaks  with  masses  of 
deep  foliage,  ranging  from  russet  to  maroon  and 
purple  red ;  the  walnuts  show  brilliant  yellows, 
and  the  maples  are  party-colored,  —  orange,  green, 
and  spotty  red ;  the  pines  are  deep  green,  and  the 
firs  and  spruces  still  darker.  In  the  lower  grounds 
are  masses  of  scarlet  interspersed  with  sedgy 
greens  and  soft  tufts  of  brown.  There  is  no  region 
known  to  the  writer  in  which  there  is  such  a  gor 
geous  autumnal  display. 

Returning  to  the  house,  we  observe  southeasterly 
a  tract  of  black  bog,  civilized  into  a  fair  field  of 
wet  grass ;  and  this  is  screened  from  the  road  by  a 
line  of  pollard  willows,  so  grotesque  that  they  may 
have  looked  to  a  young  poet's  eyes  like  dwarfed 
and  bristly  monsters.  Westward  is  a  high  ridge, 
with  trees  towering  here  and  there.  Behind  the 
house  is  the  ancient  orchard,  and  near  it  in  a  shel 
tered  spot  was  the  barn.  Beyond  the  orchard 
rises  a  clump  of  oaks,  near  which  the  genera- 


A  Quaker  Home.  39 

tions  of  Whitticrs  were  laid  to  rest.1  The  neigh 
borhood  road,  crossing  the  main  road  at  right 
angles  near  the  brook,  leads  northward,  passing 
the  house  on  the  east  side.  The  modern  barn  and 
other  farm  buildings  are  opposite  the  house,  across 
the  road.  A  short  distance  northward,  on  this 
road,  is  the  Whittier  elm,  a  tree  of  great  size  and 
antiquity.  Not  far  from  it  stood  the  old  garrison 
house,  a  place  of  refuge  from  the  Indians  long  ago, 
which  the  poet  well  remembers.2 

1  Within  a  few  years  the  remains  of  the  dead  have  been  removed 
to  the  burying-ground  in  Amesbury. 

2  "In  1690  six  garrisons  were  established  in  different  parts  of  the 
town,  with  a  small  company  of  soldiers  attached  to  each.     Two  of 
these  houses  are  still  standing.     They  were  built  of  brick,  two 
stories,  with  a  single  outside  door,  so  small  and  narrow  that  but  one 
person  could  enter  at  a  time  ;  the  windows  were  few,  and  only  about 
two  feet  and  a  half  long  by  eighteen  inches  wide,  with  thick  diamond 
glass  secured  with   lead,   and  crossed  inside  with   bars  of   iron. 
The  basement  had  but  two  rooms,  and  the  chamber  was  entered  by 
a  ladder  instead  of  stairs  ;  so  that  the  inmates,  if  driven  thither, 
could  cut  off  communication  with  the  rooms  below.     Many  private 
houses  were  strengthened  and  fortified.     "We  remember  one  familiar 
to  our  boyhood,  —  a  venerable  old  building  of  wood,  with  brick  be 
tween  the  weather-boards  and  ceiling,  with  a  massive  balustrade 
over  the  door,   constructed  of  oak  timber  and  plank,   with  holes 
through  the  latter  for  firing  upon  assailants.    The  door  opened  upon 
a  stone-paved  hall,  or  entry,  leading  into  the  huge  single  room  of 
the  basement,  which  was  lighted  by  two  small  windows,  the  ceiling 
black  with  the  smoke  of  a  century  and  a  half :  a  huge  fireplace, 
calculated  for  eight-feet  wood,  occupying  one  entire  side  ;   while 
overhead,  suspended  from  the  timbers,  or  on  shelves  fastened  to 


4O  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

The  house,  as  has  been  stated,  was  built  before 
the  year  1694,  and  probably  about  the  year  1688. 
In  externals  it  has  been  somewhat  changed  of  late 
years,  but  within  it  remains  substantially  as  it  was 
in  the  period  in  which  "  Snow  Bound"  was  located. 
New  clapboards  and  window  caps,  as  well  as  new 
outer  doors  and  sashes,  all  in  fresh  paint,  have 
given  the  old  home  a  spruce,  modern  look.  But 
some  of  the  ancient  carpentry  remains ;  and  there 
are  still  in  use  quaint  iron  door  handles,  latches, 
and  hinges,  which  Puritan  smiths  hammered  out 
two  centuries  ago.  Some  of  the  original  doors,  too 
dilapidated  for  service,  are  stored  in  an  outbuilding. 
The  glass  in  the  windows  is  modern,  except  a  few 
panes  in  the  kitchen  and  chambers.  The  sturdy 
chimney  has  been  newly  topped,  but  its  antiquity 
is  evident  when  its  huge  mass  is  seen  in  the  open 
space  of  the  large  back  chamber.  One  sees  that 
the  chimney  was  the  central  idea  of  a  new  settler's 
home.  The  kitchen  fireplace,  once  broad  enough 

them,  were  household  stores,  farming  utensils,  fishing-rods,  guns, 
bunches  of  herbs  gathered  perhaps  a  century  ago,  strings  of  dried 
apples  and  pumpkins,  links  of  mottled  sausages,  spareribs,  and 
flitches  of  bacon  ;  the  firelight  of  an  evening  dimly  revealing  the 
checked  woollen  coverlet  of  the  bed  in  one  far-off  corner,  while  in 

another 

'  The  pewter  plates  on  the  dresser 
Caught  and  reflected  the  flame,  as  shields  of  armies  the  sunshine.'  " 

J.  G.  WHITTIER,  Literary  Recreations :   TJw,  Boy  Captives. 


A  Quaker  Home.  41 

to  admit  benches  on  either  side,  has  now  been  nar- 
rmv.-d  by  rows  of  bricks,  thereby  closing  a  curious 
cave  of  an  oven,  buried  in  the  recess. 

The  square  front  rooms  are  unchanged.  The 
marks  of  their  century  are  upon  every  part  of  the 
work  :  strength  and  simplicity.  The  oaken  beams, 
which  a  man  of  fair  height  can  touch  with  an  up 
raised  hand,  are  fifteen  inches  square,  and  as  firm 
as  when  laid.  The  wainscots  and  floors  are  well 
preserved. 

At  one  end  of  the  kitchen  was  a  bedroom 
known  as  the  mother's  room ;  but  it  was  in  the 
west  front  room  that  our  poet  saw  the  light.  The 
small  chamber  overhead  is  the  one  he  occupied 
when  a  boy.  A  flight  of  well-worn  steps  leads  up 
to  it  from  the  kitchen.  Above  are  the  time-stained 
rafters  and  the  boards  pierced  with  nail-points 
which  used  to  glisten  like  powdered  stars  on  frosty 
mornings.  Here  it  was,  as  the  poet  has  told  us, 
where,  on  stormy  nights, — 

"  We  heard  the  loosened  clapboards  tost, 
The  board-nails  snapping  in  the  frost ; 
And  on  us,  through  the  un|tla>triv<l  wall, 
Felt  the  light  Mt'u-d  snow-flakes  fall." 

If  readers  can  recall  the  parts  of  this  description, 
and  look  upon  this  old  farm-house  from  a  proper 
point  without,  it  will  be  seen  that  if  there  \\nv 


42  John  Greenleaf  Whit  tier. 

once  more  a  garden  in  front,  a  tall  well-sweep  at 
the  left,  the  barn  and  sheds  in  the  rear,  and  if 
the  oaks  on  every  side  were  renewed,  —  sturdier, 
thicker,  nearer,  —  the  place  would  be  once  more  as 
it  was  when  Whittier  was  a  boy. 

The  silent  valley  produces  an  impression  of 
remoteness.  Owing  to  the  variety  of  surface  and 
soil,  the  trees,  shrubs,  grasses,  and  wild  flowers 
include  a  wide  range  of  species ;  and  the  birds  and 
squirrels,  as  well  as  woodchucks,  water-snakes, 
and  other  aquatic  animals,  and  all  the  bright-eyed 
skulkers  in  lonely  haunts,  have  long  found  in  this 
spot  a  home. 

If  one  should  desire  to  indulge  in  the  effusively 
picturesque  style,  there  are  materials ;  but,  truth 
to  say,  the  scene  is  not  remarkably  beautiful  as 
compared  with  many  in  that  most  lovely  part  of 
Massachusetts.  On  a  drive  from  Newburyport  to 
Haverhill,  on  either  bank  of  the  river,  one  can  find 
views  far  more  noble  and  impressive,  —  grander 
forms  of  hills,  with  coils  and  stretches  of  blue 
river,  leafy  arches  over  silent  canals,  glimpses  of 
silvery  lakes,  and  undulating  pastures. 

No ;  the  Whittier  homestead  is  not  beautiful, 
as  artists  consider  beauty ;  but  sweet  and  tender 
memories  render  our  eyes  misty  as  we  look  upon 
it ;  and  with  such  associations  there  comes  a  feel- 


A  Quaker  Home.  43 

ing  which  the  artist  of  mere  beauty  can  never 
create.  The  scene  is  quiet,  unmodernized,  near  to 
aboriginal  nature,  and  suggestive  of  a  calm  sim 
plicity  that  asks  for  no  admiration,  —  as  if  a  seg 
ment  of  another  century  had  survived  the  changes 
of  time. 

It  is  a  scene  in  which  we  should  naturally  expect 
to  see  the  steeple-hatted  farmer,  in  woollen  hose 
and  doublet,  following  his  team  afield  ;  the  matron 
in  her  coif,  with  a  kerchief  "  over  her  decent 
shoulders  drawn,"  sitting  by  the  door  at  her  spin 
ning-wheel  ;  the  comely  daughters  hanging  festoons 
of  sliced  apples  to  dry ;  the  boys  tending  cattle  in 
the  lush  meadows ;  while  groups  of  deer,  fearless  of 
hounds,  were  cropping  grass  and  twigs  on  the 
heights. 

The  land  is  only  moderately  fertile,  and  could 
never  have  been  the  source  of  wealth  to  the  most 
laborious  cultivator.  In  the  town  assessment  for 
1798,  the  farm  stands  as  the  joint  property  of 
Joseph,  John,  and  Moses,  and  is  rated  at  $200, 
much  below  its  probable  value.  At  all  events. 
when  in  1806  Joseph  married  and  removed  to 
Maine,  his  share  was  bought  by  John,  father  of  our 
poet,  for  $600.  This  sum  was  borrowed,  and  the 
interest,  even,  was  felt  as  a  burden.  The  debt 
remained  during  the  father's  life,  and  was  at  last 
cleared  by  the  exertions  of  the  son. 


44  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

It  will  not  do  to  infer  from  such  details  that  the 
family  was  actually  poor,  although  money  must 
have  been  generally  scarce.  In  those  days  the 
wants  of  men  and  women  were  fewer,  or  the  spirit 
of  self-denial  and  personal  independence  was  more 
common.  Each  household  had  its  plentiful  supply 
of  food  from  the  crops  and  herds  and  the  river ; 
the  field  of  flax  and  the  annual  fleeces,  spun  and 
woven  at  home,  furnished  most  of  the  necessary 
clothing ;  neighborhood  exchanges  distributed  com 
forts  ;  and  surplus  wood,  nuts,  grain,  and  other 
farm  produce  helped  to  balance  the  account  of  the 
country  store.  The  present  generation,  accus 
tomed  to  a  totally  different  life,  cannot  understand 
the  content  of  their  ancestors  with  their  plain  fare, 
coarse  clothes,  an  unvarying  round  of  duties,  and  a 
succession  of  rustic  pleasures.  Every  natural  want 
was  supplied,  and,  little  as  they  had  to  spend,  pov 
erty  was  unfelt,  or  rather  unknown. 

We  know  further,  by  the  testimony  of  neighbors, 
that  the  Whittiers  were  esteemed  as  comfortable, 
well-to-do  people,  and  they  counted  among  their 
friends  the  best  of  the  town.  A  cousin,1  whose 
notes  will  frequently  aid  us,  writes  :  — 

"  The  social  privileges  of  the  family  were  among 
the  best  which  Haverhill  and  its  neighborhood  afforded. 

1  Mrs.  Gertrude  "W.  Cartland,  of  Newburyport,  Mass. 


A  Quaker  Home.  45 

The  father  was  frequently  in  the  public  service  of  the 
town,  and  was  intimate  with  such  prominent  men  as  the 
late  Judge  Minot,  Colonel  J.  H.  Duncan,  a  Member  of 
Congress,  Moses  Wmu'atr,  State  Senator,  and  Sheriff 
Bartlett,  grandfather  of  General  Bartlett,  one  of  the  most 
noble  of  the  heroes  of  the  late  war.  Parson  Tompkins, 
also,  was  as  frequent  a  guest  at  the  Whittier  fireside  as  in 
the  homes  of  his  own  parishioners. 

"  The  visits  of  travelling  Friends  were  also  an  impor 
tant  element  in  the  social  and  religious  life  of  the  family. 
The  Friends  of  New  England  were  widely  scattered,  and 
the  attendance  upon  their  annual  meeting,  held  at  New 
port,  R.  I.,  before  the  days  of  railroads,  often  involved 
a  journey  of  several  days,  which  they  generally  per 
formed  in  their  own  carriages,  receiving  hospitable  en 
tertainment  on  the  way  at  the  houses  of  their  fellow- 
members.  And  it  is  remembered  that  on  one  occasion 
no  fewer  than  sixteen  were  entertained  one  night  at  the 
Whittier  mansion. 

"  Ministers  from  England  also  were  frequently  in  this 
country,  making  visits  to  the  meetings  and  families  of 
friends.  Among  the  eminent  men  of  this  class  was 
William  Forster,  father  of  Hon.  William  Edward  Forster, 
late  member  of  the  Gladstone  cabinet.  The  poet  has 
commemorated  the  visit  in  a  poem  beginning :  — 

*  The  years  are  many  since  his  hand 
AVas  laid  upon  my  head.'  "  l 

1  He  died  in  East  Tennessee,  January,  1854,  while  engaged  in 
presenting  to  the  governors  of  the  States  of  this  Union  the  ad 
dress  of  his  religious  society  on  the  evils  of  slavery.  See  Note  61, 
in  "NVhittier's  Poems. 


46  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Those  whose  memory  reaches  back  fifty  years, 
and  especially  those  who  were  reared  in  places 
remote  from  large  towns,  will  find  in  "  Snow 
Bound"  perfect  pictures  of  the  old  times.  The 
poet  himself  calls  them  Flemish  pictures ;  and  it 
is  true  they  have  much  of  the  homely  fidelity  of 
Teniers,  but  they  are  far  more  than  literal  repre 
sentations.  The  scenes  glow  with  ideal  beauty, — 
all  the  more  for  their  bucolic  tone.  The  works 
and  ways  of  the  honest  people  are  almost  photo 
graphically  revealed ;  and  we  have  afterwards 
nothing  but  recollections  of  cheerful  piety,  modest 
and  steadfast  truth,  and  heart-felt  love.  There 
is  but  one  counterpart  in  the  language :  the  "  Cot 
ter's  Saturday  Night "  of  Burns  ;  and  that  is  com 
paratively  limited  in  scope  and  less  poetical  in 
treatment.  An  exposition  of  "  Snow  Bound  "  such 
as  could  be  given  by  a  man  of  sympathy  and 
knowledge  would  be  a  typical  history  of  a  New 
England  family  half  a  century  ago. 

While  referring  to  this  poem  it  is  probably  best 
to  notice  the  family  portraits.  They  are  exquisite, 
both  in  tone  and  in  details. 

Readers  will  remember  the  one  beginning :  — • 

"  Our  uncle,  innocent  of  books, 
Was  rich  in  lore  of  fields  and  brooks. 


A  Quaker  Home.  47 

Himself  to  Nature's  heart  PO  near 

That  all  her  voices  in  his  ear 

Of  beast  or  bird  had  meanings  clear. 

A  simple,  guileless,  childlike  man, 
Content  to  live  where  life  began." 

This  was  Uncle  Moses,  who  lived  with  the  poet's 
father,  and  was  remarkable  for  the  blamelessness 
and  simplicity  of  his  life. 

Mr.  C.  C.  Chase,  a  neighbor  of  the  Whittiers 
years  ago,  writes:  — 

"  lie  was  a  man  for  the  little  folks  to  love.  ...  I  well 
remember  the  shock  which  the  neighborhood  felt  when  the 
news  spread  that  Uncle  Moses  had  been  killed.  [This 
was  in  1824.]  He  had  felled  a  tree  in  the  woods  which 
had  lodged  against  another  tree.  To  bring  the  first  to 
the  ground,  he  felled  the  second  tree.  The  two  dropped 
at  the  same  time,  and,  taking  unexpected  directions,  he 
was  caught  and  killed  by  one  of  them.  On  a  bitterly  cold 
day  the  good  old  man  was  carried  to  his  grave,  beside 
those  of  his  relatives,  in  the  corner  of  a  field  a  few  rods 
in  the  rear  of  the  house.  He  comes  to  my  mind  as  a 
tall,  plain,  sober  man,  far  less  stout  and  stirring  than  his 
brother  John." 

We  are  also  indebted  to  Mr.  Chase  for  pleasant 
recollections  of  the  poet's  mother  and  aunt :  - 

"  Whittier's  mother  was  a  woman  of  natural  refinement 
of  manners.  Being  a  friend  of  my  mother,  she  never 


48  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

failed,  when  she  saw  me,  politely  to  inquire  for  her.  Her 
language  was  always  the  same.  *  How  do  thee  do, 
Charles  ?  —  and  how  is  thy  mother  ?  '  Her  face  was 
full  and  very  fair.  Her  bearing  was  dignified  rather  than 
lively.  The  word  '  benign '  best  comprehends  the  expres 
sion  of  her  features.  She  was  loved  and  honored  in  the 
neighborhood. 

"  Her  sister,  Aunt  Mercy  Hussey,  was  for  many  years 
an  honored  member  of  the  family.  She,  as  I  remember 
her,  though  a  person  of  less  dignity  of  bearing,  had  a 
face  which  revealed  a  singular  sweetness  of  temper. 
She  was  a  devout  member  of  the  Society  of  Friends. 

"  The  dress  of  the  two  ladies  I  well  remember.  The 
plain  Quaker  caps,  so  comely  and  so  spotless,  and  the 
neatness  and  fitness  of  their  whole  attire  attracted  my 
youthful  fancy.  They  seemed  to  me  to  combine  all  that 
was  sweet,  lovable,  and  excellent  in  woman." 

There  is  a  portrait  of  the  mother,  by  Lawson, 
in  the  Amesbury  home  of  the  poet.  It  is  full  of 
calm  sense,  goodness,  and  benevolence.  In  "  Snow 
Bound  "  there  is  a  brief  reference  to  her :  — 

"  Our  mother,  while  she  turned  her  wheel, 
Or  run  the  new-knit  stocking-heel, 
Told  how  the  Indian  hordes  came  down 
At  midnight  on  Cochecho  town. 

Then,  haply,  with  a  look  more  grave, 
And  soberer  tone,  some  tale  she  gave 
From  painful  SewalPs  ancient  tome, 
Beloved  in  every  Quaker  home, 
Of  faith  fire-winged  by  martyrdom." 


.  '  •      •«  » 


A  Quaker  Home.  49 

The  tender  description  of  the  aunt  should  be 
referred  to  :  — 

"  Next,  the  dear  aunt,  whose  smile  of  cheer 
And  voice  in  dreams  I  see  and  hear,  — 
The  sweetest  woman  ever  Fate 
Perverse  denied  A  household  mate. 

For  well  she  kept  her  genial  mood 
And  simple  faith  of  maidenhood  ; 
Before  her  still  a  cloud-land  lay, 
The  mirage  loomed  across  her  way  ; 

Through  years  of  toil  and  soil  and  care, 
From  glossy  tress  to  thin  gray  hair, 
All  un profaned  she  held  apart 
The  virgin  fancies  of  the  heart." 

The  father  of  the  household  is  a  more  silent 
force,  and  is  not  so  strongly  limned.  But  the 
lines  in  which  he  is  mentioned  are  interesting  as 
showing  his  adventures  in  early  life,  when  one 
vast  forest  stretched  from  Southern  New  Hamp 
shire  to  Canada.  We  see  him  skirting  the  north 
ern  lakes,  camping  with  Indians  and  trappers,  and 
enjoying  a  hunter's  fare ;  then  among  the  habi 
tant  of  St.  Francis,  where  for  him 

"  The  moonlight  shone 
On  Norman  cap  and  bodiced  zone ;  " 

and  where 

"  He  heard  the  violin  play 
Which  led  the  village  dance  away." 


50  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

.Then  come  reminiscences  of  the   early  residence 
of  his  ancestor,  — 

"  Where  Salisbury's  level  marshes  spread," 
with  all  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  sea. 

Then  the  poet's  elder  sister,  Mary,  is  recalled  :  — 

"  A  full,  rich  nature,  free  to  trust, 
Truthful  and  almost  sternly  just, 

Keeping  with  many  a  light  disguise 
The  secret  of  self-sacrifice." 

Next  we  see  where 

"  Upon  the  motley-braided  mat 
Our  youngest  and  our  dearest  sat, 
Lifting  her  large,  sweet,  asking  eyes." 

This  was  Elizabeth,  a  noble  woman,  whose  crayon 
portrait  is  also  preserved  in  the  Amesbury  house. 

In   another   place   the   remaining   child   of   the 
family  group  is  apostrophized:  — 

"  Ah,  brother  !  only  I  and  thou 
Are  left  of  all  that  circle  now." 

This  was  Matthew  Franklin,  a  resident  of  Boston, 
who  died  January  7,  1883. 

One  of  the  most  memorable  passages  in  "  Snow 
Bound  "  is  that  beginning :  — 

"  Another  guest  that  winter  night 
Flashed  back  from  lustrous  eyes  the  light." 

The  picture  of  the  woman,  as  well  as  the  analysis 
of  her  puzzling  character,  is  done  with  exceeding 


A  Quaker  Home.  51 

care.  It  is  evidently  founded  on  observation,  and 
not  a  creation  of  the  fancy  ;  and  how  powerful  was 
the  impression  made  upon  the  susceptible  boy,  is 
shown  by  the  wonderful  reproduction  of  all  its 
force  and  all  its  delicacy  after  so  many  years.  It 
is  not  to  be  supposed  that  a  picture  like  this  is  to 
be  taken  as  a  likeness  in  every  respect.  There  is, 
however,  little  doubt  that,  aside  from  allowable 
poetic  license,  this  is  a  portrait  of  a  brilliant  and 
eccentric  lady  named  Harriet  Livermore,  a  native 
of  Newburyport,  who  used  to  visit  the  Whittier 
family.  One  paragraph  will  recall  her  wayward 
mode  of  life  :  — 

"  Since  then  what  old  cathedral  town 

Has  missed  her  pilgrim  staff  and  gown,  — 

What  convent-gate  has  held  its  lock 

Against  the  challenge  of  her  knock  1 

Through  Smyrna's  plague-hushed  thoroughfares, 

Up  sea-set  Malta's  rocky  stairs, 

Gray  olive  slopes  of  hills  that  hem 

Thy  tombs  and  shrines,  Jerusalem, 

Or  startling  on  her  desert  throne 

The  crazy  Queen  of  Lebanon 

"With  claims  fantastic  as  her  own, 

Her  tireless  feet  have  held  their  way ; 

And  still,  unrestful,  bowed,  and  gray, 

She  watches  under  Eastern  skies, 

"With  hope  each  day  renewed  and  fresh, 
The  Lord's  quick  coming  in  the  flesh, 

Whereof  she  dreams  and  prophesies  1 


52  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  Where'er  her  troubled  path  may  be, 

The  Lord's  sweet  pity  with  her  go ! 
The  outward,  wayward  life  we  see, 

The  hidden  springs  we  may  not  know." 

She  had  a  certain  exaltation  of  mind  that  bordered 
on  insanity,  and  children  were  heartily  afraid  of 
her,  for  she  was  very  sharp  towards  them,  as  well 
as  towards  such  older  persons  as  she  did  not  in 
cline  to.  In  the  course  of  her  travels  in  Syria  she 
met  Lady  Hester  Stanhope,  a  woman,  if  possible, 
more  fantastic  and  strained  in  mind  than  herself. 
She  lived  with  this  "  crazy  Queen  of  Lebanon  "  for 
some  time,  but  at  length  quarrelled  with  her  con 
cerning  the  propriety  of  keeping  two  white  mares 
saddled  in  her  stable  on  which  to  ride  into  Jeru 
salem  in  company  with  the  Lord  at  his  second 
coming ! 

With  this  interpretation  Whittier 's  lines  have  a 
singular  subtilty,  —  resembling,  in  effect,  certain 
airy  shadows  that  hover  (and  seem  even  to  waver 
while  you  look)  between  the  shoulders  of  the  fruit- 
seller  in  Murillo's  picture.  We  have  in  one  mas 
terly  picture  the  fascinating  yet  uncanny  exte 
rior,  and  the  complexity  of  caprices,  whims,  and 
jealousies,  and  of  mutually  repelling  mental  traits. 

What  a  character  for  Hawthorne  ! 

Every  line  in  this  delightful  poem  has  its  mean- 


A  Quaker  Home.  53 

ing.  It  is  not  difficult  to  return  in  imagination 
to  that  modest,  cheerful  home,  and  to  behold  the 
members  of  the  family  and  the  two  guests  around 
the  great  blazing  fire.  We  should  miss  modern 
elegance  in  that  kitchen,  but  we  should  see  faces 
of  intelligence,  lighted  by  tranquil  affection,  and 
hear  the  delightful  accents  in  which  heart  speaks 
to  heart,  — the  soft  thee  and  thou,  for  which  the 
speech  of  the  great  world  has  no  equivalent. 

In  such  a  home  only  the  purest  and  noblest 
natures  are  bred. 

Nearly  all  the  persons  that  composed  that  group 
around  the  kitchen  fire  have  since  died,  and  their 
bodies  rest  together  in  the  old  burying-ground  in 
Amesbury.  In  a  lot  enclosed  by  a  hedge  of  arbor 
vita3  are  six  head-stones  of  white  marble,  bearing 
the  following  inscriptions  :  — 

John  Whittier,  d.  llth  of  6th  mo.,  1831,  ag.  70. 
Abigail  Whittier,  d.  27th,  12th  mo.,  1857,  aged  77. 
Moses  Whittier,  d.  23d,  1st  mo.,  1824,  aged  61. 
Mercy  E.  Hussey,  died  4th  mo.,  14th,  1846. 
Mary  W.  Caldwell,  daughter  of  John  and   Abigail   Whit 
tier,  d.  1st  mo.  7,  1861,  aged  64. 

Elizabeth  II.  Whittk-r,  d.  3d,  9th  mo.,  1864,  aged  48. 

Matthew  Franklin  Whittier  has  since  been  buried 
in  the  same  lot. 


CHAPTER  IY. 

EARLY   YEARS. 

The  Poet's  Childhood.  —  His  Schooling,  Books,  and  Religious 
Training.  —  The  Barefoot  Boy  hears  Scotch  Songs.  —  Joshua 
Coffin  brings  a  Volume  of  Burns.  —  Air-castles  and  Verses.  — 
Garrison's  "  Free  Press."  —  Preparation  for  the  Academy. 

TN  the  spot  we  have  endeavored  to  sketch,  John 
Greenleaf  Whittier  was  born,  December  17, 
1807.  His  father  had  married  at  a  later  age  than 
common,  and  was  then  forty-seven.  He  was  kind 
and  just,  but  a  man  of  few  words.  The  uncle, 
Moses,  was  an  inmate  of  the  house,  and  remained 
with  the  family  until  his  death,  which  occurred 
when  the  poet  was  seventeen  years  of  age.  Though 
an  elderly  man,  he  was  a  beloved  companion  of 
children,  and  was  like  an  elder  brother  to  his 
nephews.  Most  of  the  pleasant  associations  of  boy 
hood  are  connected  with  wood-craft  and  the  rural 
amusements  in  which  the  good  uncle  was  such  an 
adept ;  and  we  may  add  that  the  brilliant  points  of 
description  and  the  natural  images  which  abound 


Early  Years.  55 

in  Whittier's  poems  have  their  origin  in  the  thor 
ough  familiarity  with  nature  gained  unconsciously 
in  early  years. 

He  went  to  school  at  seven  years  of  age,  and  his 
first  teacher  was  Joshua  Coffin,  who  was  also  his 
lifelong  friend.  The  school  was  kept  in  a  private 
house,  as  the  school-house  was  undergoing  repairs. 
Coffin  was  afterwards  the  author  of  an  excellent 
History  of  Newbury,  a  model  of  its  kind.  He  was 
an  able  though  apparently  eccentric  man,  and 
in  various  ways  he  was  of  the  greatest  service 
to  the  future  poet.  But  the  schoolmaster  who  has 
a  prominent  place  in  "  Snow  Bound "  was  not 
Coffin,  but  an  unnamed  student  from  Dartmouth 
College.  The  passage  referring  to  him  is  too  long 
to  be  inserted  here,  although  readers  will  be 
pleased  to  recall  the  opening  lines :  — 

"  Brisk  wielder  of  the  birch  and  rule, 
The  master  of  the  district  school 
Held  at  the  fire  his  favored  place ; 
Its  warm  glow  lit  a  laughing  face 
Fresh-hued  and  fair,  where  scarce  appeared 
The  uncertain  prophecy  of  beard." 

There  was  a  private  school  the  following  sum 
mer,  kept  by  Madam  Chadbourne,  of  Newburyport. 
Usually,  however,  there  was  but  one  term  of  school 
in  the  year,  lasting  three  months.  The  school- 


56  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

house  was  half  a  mile  distant,  on  the  north  road.1 
There  was  usually  a  new  master  every  winter, 
and  on  the  whole  -the  facilities  for  education  ap 
pear  to  have  been  very  scanty.  A  pupil  at  this 
day  in  a  first-class  school  would  probably  have 
more  opportunities  in  two  years  of  forty  weeks 
each  than  were  afforded  to  Whittier  in  the  whole 
period  of  his  youth.  We  have  no  information  as 
to  his  rank  or  acquirements,  but  we  shall  see  by 
the  results,  farther  on,  that  somehow  he  had  man 
aged  to  amass  a  store  of  information,  and  to  ac 
quire  an  unusual  mastery  over  his  mother  tongue. 

If  his  school  training  was  confined  to  narrow 
limits,  his  opportunities  for  reading  were  even  less 
gratifying.  There  were  about  twenty  volumes  in 
the  house,  mostly  journals  and  memoirs  of  pioneers 
in  the  religious  society.  One  of  the  books  was 
a  poem  by  Ellwood,  the  English  Quaker  and  the 
friend  of  Milton,  entitled  "The  Davideis."  We 
infer  that  the  boy  found  it  dreary.  It  has  disap 
peared  from  view  in  our  times.2  In  a  brief  auto 
biographic  leaflet  Mr.  Whittier  tells  us  that  he  was 

1  It  was  in  a  tolerable  state  of  preservation  until  a  few  years 
ago,  when  it  was  proposed  to  move  it  into  the  centre  of  Haverhill ; 
"but  after  it  had  been  transported  for  some  distance  on  the  road  it 
was  burned  by  thoughtless  boys  for  sport. 

2  "Whittier  still  has  the  ancient  volume.     A  more  dull  and  taste 
less  production  can  hardly  be  imagined. 


Early  Years.  57 

fond  of  reading  at  an  early  age,  and  that  when 
he  heard,  now  and  then,  of  a  book  of  biography  or 
travel,  he  would  walk  miles  to  borrow  it.  But  in 
those  early  years  the  bulk  of  his  reading  was  in 
the  Bible.  Mrs.  Cartland  writes  :  — 

"  In  the  Whittier  family  the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scrip 
tures  was  a  constant  practice.  On  First-day  afternoons 
especially  the  mother  would  read  them  with  the  children, 
endeavoring  to  impress  their  truths  by  familiar  conversa 
tion  ;  and  to  this  early  and  habitual  instruction  we  may 
attribute  in  great  measure  the  full  and  accurate  knowl 
edge  of  Bible  history  which  the  poems  of  J.  G.  Whittier 
indicate,  as  well  as  the  strong  bias  in  favor  of  moral  re 
forms  which  was  so  early  manifested.  It  is  a  tradition 
in  the  family  that  when  J.  G.  Whittier  was  very  young 
he  often  sought  from  his  father  and  others  a  solution  of 
his  doubts  respecting  the  morality  of  certain  acts  of  the 
patriarchs  and  other  holy  men  of  old  ;  and  at  one  time 
he  declared  that  King  David  could  not  have  been  a 
member  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  because  he  was  a  man 
of  war." 

In  a  simple,  uneventful  way  his  years  were 
passed.  He  was  constantly  employed,  as  he  tells 
us  in  the  leaflet,  when  not  at  school.  "  At  an  early 
age  I  was  set  at  work  on  the  farm  and  doing 
errands  for  my  mother,  who,  in  addition  to  her 
ordinary  house  duties,  was  busy  in  spinning  and 
w. -living  the  linen  and  woollen  cloth  needed  for  the 
family."  There  was  no  time  to  be  "  killed,"  and 


58  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

ennui  had  not  then  been  invented.  The  service 
was  unremitting,  but  a  cheerful  temper  kept  it 
from  being  irksome ;  and  in  a  family  of  which 
every  member  practised  thrift  of  time  and  the  con 
centration  of  thought  and  purpose,  the  steady  round 
of  duties  was  as  natural  as  the  rotation  of  the 
earth. 

The  Friends'  meeting-house  was  in  Amesbury, 
eight  miles  eastward,  and  thither  on  First-day 
mornings  the  father  and  mother,  and  sometimes 
one  of  the  children,  were  accustomed  to  ride.  The 
poet  says  in  reference  to  this :  "  I  think  I  rather 
enjoyed  staying  at  home,  wandering  in  the  woods, 
or  climbing  Job's  Hill." 

If  he  preferred  Sunday  rambles  in  pleasant 
weather,  he  must  have  been  still  ,more  reluctant 
in  winter  to  encounter  the  cold  in  the  long  drives 
to  meeting.  The  early  settlers  came  with  tradi 
tions  of  England  into  a  climate  like  that  of  Russia. 
It  has  taken  two  centuries  to  get  it  fixed  in  the 
minds  of  people  that  against  our  arctic  cold  there 
should  be  an  abundant  provision  of  furs,  wraps,  and 
blankets.  In  Whittier's  youth  buffalo  robes  were 
unknown ;  so  were  the  huge  warm  overcoats  now 
so  common ;  few  people  even  wore  any  heavy  flan 
nel  underclothing.  The  cloth  woven  by  farmers' 
wives,  though  firm  and  serviceable,  was  compara- 


Early  Years.  59 

lively  thin,  —  not  at  all  like  "beaver"  and  other 
felt-like  or  fuzzy  fabrics  which  are  now  in  use. 
The  suffering  from  cold  was  intense  in  those  days, 
and  Mr.  Whittier  has  a  most  keen  recollection 
of  it.1 

There  are  continual  glimpses  of  Whittier's  early 
life  to  be  seen  by  the  intelligent  observer  in  going 
through  the  works.  "  The  Barefoot  Boy  "  is  clearly 
autobiographical,  and  between  its  simple  lines  we 
look  as  through  magic  lenses  into  the  very  heart 
of  his  childhood. 

"  I  was  rich  in  flowers  and  trees, 
Humming-birds  and  honey-bees ; 
For  my  sport  the  squirrel  played, 
Plied  the  snouted  mole  his  spade ; 
For  my  taste  the  blackberry  cone 
Purpled  over  hedge  and  stone  ; 
Laughed  the  brook  for  my  delight 
Through  the  day  and  through  the  night, 
Whispering  at  the  garden  wall, 
Talked  with  me  from  fall  to  fall ; 
Mine  the  panel-rimmed  pickerel  pond, 
Mine  the  walnut  slopes  beyond, 
Mine,  on  bending  orchard  trees, 
Apples  of  Hesperides. 

O  for  festal  dainties  spread, 
Like  my  bowl  of  milk  and  bread,  — 
Pewter  spoon  and  bowl  of  wood, 
On  the  door-stone,  gray  and  rude ! 

1  S.  T.  Pickard,  Esq.,  in  Portland  Transcript. 


60  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

O'er  me,  like  a  regal  tent, 
Cloudy-ribbed,  the  sunset  bent, 
Purple-curtained,  fringed  with  gold, 
Looped  in  many  a  wind-swung  fold." 

A  slight  incident  appears  to  have  given  a  new 
direction  to  his  thoughts,  as  well  as  new  views  of 
nature  and  life.  He  tells  us  *  that  wanderers  fre 
quently  made  their  appearance  at  the  house  and 
were  entertained  ;  and  in  this  way  he  came  to  know 
many  queer  and  eccentric  characters.  Wanderers, 
or  tramps,  are  possibly  plenty  nowadays,  but  they 
get  small  encouragement  at  most  farm-houses.  It 
is  not  generally  believed,  in  regard  to  this  class, 
that  among  them  many  angels  are  entertained  una 
wares.  He  mentions  one  in  particular  to  whom  he 
was  indebted  for  a  new  sensation. 

"  One  day  we  had  a  call  from  a  '  pawky  auld  carle  '  of 
a  wandering  Scotchman.  To  him  I  owe  my  first  intro 
duction  to  the  songs  of  Burns.  After  eating  his  bread 
and  cheese  and  drinking  his  mug  of  cider,  he  gave  us 
Bonnie  Doon,  Highland  Mary,  and  Auld  Lang  Syne. 
He  had  a  full,  rich  voice,  and  entered  heartily  into  the 
spirit  of  his  lyrics.  I  have  since  listened  to  the  same 
melodies  from  the  lips  of  Dempster  (than  whom  the 
Scottish  bard  has  had  no  sweeter  or  truer  interpreter)  ; 
but  the  skilful  performance  of  the  artist  lacked  the  novel 
charm  of  the  gaberlunzie's  singing  in  the  old  farm-house 
kitchen." 

1  "  Yankee  Gypsies,"  in  Literary  Recreations,  p.  355. 


Early  Years.  61 

In  the  same  lively  essay  he  tells  us  of  another 
wanderer,  named  Jonathan  Plummer,  that  appeared 
to  have  a  regular  orbit.  His  description  of  this  odd 
genius  is  too  amusing  to  be  merely  summarized, 
and  we  give  it  as  it  stands. 

"  Twice  a  year,  usually  in  the  spring  and  autumn,  we 
were  honored  with  a  call  from  Jonathan  Plummer,  maker 
of  verses,  peddler  and  poet,  physician  and  parson,  —  a 
Yankee  troubadour,  —  first  and  last  minstrel  of  the  valley 
of  the  Merrimac,  encircled,  to  my  wondering  young  eyes, 
with  the  very  nimbus  of  immortality.  He  brought  with 
him  pins,  needles,  tape,  and  cotton  thread  for  my  mother ; 
jackknives,  razors,  and  soap  for  my  father  ;  and  verses  of 
his  own  composing,  coarsely  printed  and  illustrated  with 
rude  woodcuts,  for  the  delectation  of  the  younger  branches 
of  the  family.  No  love-sick  youth  could  drown  himself, 
no  deserted  maiden  bewail  the  moon,  no  rogue  mount  the 
gallows,  without  fitting  memorial  in  Plummer's  verses. 
Earthquakes,  fires,  fevers,  and  shipwrecks  he  regarded 
as  personal  favors  from  Providence,  furnishing  the  raw 
material  of  song  and  ballad.  Welcome  to  us  in  our 
country  seclusion  as  Autolycus  to  the  clown  in  Winter's 
Tale,  we  listened  with  infinite  satisfaction  to  his  readings 
of  his  own  verses,  or  to  his  ready  improvisation  upon 
some  domestic  incident  or  topic  suggested  by  his  auditors. 
When  once  fairly  over  the  difficulties  at  the  outset  of  a 
new  subject,  his  rhymes  flowed  freely  *  as  if  he  had  eaten 
ballads  and  all  men's  ears  grew  to  his  tunes.'  IIi>  pro 
ductions  answered,  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember,  to 
Shakespeare's  description  of  a  proper  ballad  —  '  doleful 


62  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

matter  merrily  set  down,  or  a  very  pleasant  theme  sung 
lamentably.'  He  was  scrupulously  conscientious,  devout, 
inclined  to  theological  disquisitions,  and  withal  mighty 
in  Scripture.  He  was  thoroughly  independent ;  nattered 
nobody,  cared  for  nobody,  trusted  nobody.  When  in 
vited  to  sit  down  at  our  dinner-table,  he  invariably  took 
the  precaution  to  place  his  basket  of  valuables  between 
his  legs  for  safe  keeping.  <  Never  mind  thy  basket, 
Jonathan,'  said  my  father  ;  '  we  shan't  steal  thy  verses.' 

*  I  'm  not  sure  of  that,'   returned  the  suspicious  guest. 

*  It  is  written,  "  Trust  ye  not  in  any  brother." ' 

As  a  part  of  the  same  series  of  events  we  quote 
from  the  leaflet  another  paragraph. 

"  When  I  was  fourteen  years  old  my  first  schoolmaster, 
Joshua  Coffin  .  .  .  brought  with  him  to  our  house  a  vol 
ume  of  Burns's  poems,  from  which  he  read,  greatly  to  my 
delight.  I  begged  him  to  leave  the  book  with  me,  and  set 
myself  at  once  to  the  task  of  mastering  the  glossary  of  the 
Scottish  dialect  at  its  close.  This  was  about  the  first 
poetry  I  had  ever  read  (with  the  exception  of  that  of 
the  Bible,  of  which  I  had  been  a  close  student),  and  it 
had  a  lasting  influence  upon  me.  I  began  to  make 
rhymes  myself,  and  to  imagine  stories  and  adventures." 

His  earliest  attempts  in  rhyme  were  in  the  man 
ner  of  Burns ;  but  it  is  not  known  that  any  of  them 
have  been  preserved. 

The  Quakers,  it  will  be  remembered,  did  not 
approve  of  music.  It  was  a  pleasure  they  had 
agreed  to  abandon.  In  a  life  seemingly  made  up  of 


Early  Years.  63 

self-abnegations  perhaps  one  more  or  less  did  not 
matter.  But  it  is  something  difficult  for  others  to 
imagine,  —  the  entire  disuse  of  a  natural  expres 
sion  of  feeling.  Among  those  who  have  been 
brought  up  in  musical  families  this  repression  of 
song  seems  hard  and  cruel ;  for  music  suits  itself 
to  all  moods,  and  bears  an  intimate  relation  equally 
to  the  gayest,  tenderest,  and  most  solemn  events  of 
life.  From  the  mother's  holy  lullaby,  the  moving 
ballad,  and  the  lover's  serenade,  to  the  impassioned 
utterances  of  the  dramatic  singer  and  the  sub 
limity  of  the  oratorio,  the  scope  is  almost  infinite ; 
and  throughout  all  there  is  a  sense  of  something 
"  in  tune  with  the  nature  of  man." 

Waiving  for  a  moment  the  question  whether  an 
unexpurgated  volume  of  Burns  was  precisely  the 
most  judicious  reading  for  a  boy  of  fourteen,  we 
can  see  that  in  this  instance  it  served  to  awaken 
feelings  and  perceptions  which  were  to  develop  and 
to  react  upon  his  susceptible  nature  until  in  time 
he  should  behold  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth, 
and  should  himself  become  their  voice.  Both  the 
poetry  and  the  music,  it  seems  to  us,  were  neces 
sary  influences.  The  verses  touched  sources  of 
feeling  and  aroused  ideas  before  unknown  and 
unsuspected.  With  what  thrills- he  must  have  read 
those  clear-cut  lines,  with  their  terse,  proverbial 


64  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

force,  their  tingling  wit  or  home-like  tenderness ! 
For  it  is  certain  that  in  the  essentials  of  poetry  the 
songs  of  Burns,  such  as  the  Banks  of  Boon  and 
Highland  Mary,  for  instance,  are  absolutely  un 
paralleled.  The  passionate  poet  insists  that  all 
Nature  shall  sympathize  in  his  sorrows  and  his 
joys  ;  and,  familiar  as  the  lines  may  be,  they  always 
strike  the  heart  with  a  new  force. 

"  Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonny  Boon, 

How  can  ye  bloom  sae  fresh  and  fair ; 
How  can  ye  chant,  ye  little  birds, 

And  I  sae  weary  fu'  o'  care  ! 
Thou  'It  break  my  heart,  thou  warbling  bird, 

That  wantons  through  the  flowering  thorn  ; 
Thou  minds  me  o'  departed  joys, 

Departed  —  never  to  return  !  " 

And  when  the  same  beauty  of  thought  and  gen 
uine  pathos  was  borne  on  the  wings  of  song,  the 
soul  that  -for  the  first  time  heard,  comprehended, 
and  felt  all  this  power  must  have  risen  into  an 
ecstasy  for  which  there  are  no  symbols. 

It  was  a  "barefoot  boy"  just  from  the  fields 
with  his  hoe,  or  fresh  from  a  ramble  in  the 
woods,  with  only  the  songs  of  bobolinks  and 
thrushes  in  his  ears.  What  new  and  intenser 
meaning  were  the  melodies  of  nature  to  have  for 
him  henceforth ! 

The  next  few  years  were  to  bring  a  great  change. 


Early  Years.  65 

The  poetry  of  Burns  and  the  Scottish  music  had 
enthralled  him,  and  his  own  feelings  began  to 
shape  themselves  in  rhyme.  He  was  encouraged 
by  his  elder  sister,  though  we  may  suppose  his 
parents  were  not  at  first  let  into  the  secret.  How 
with  his  poor  outfit  he  learned  the  mastery  of  verse 
is  one  of  the  mysteries  of  genius.  The  time  he 
had  given  to  study  was  so  brief,  —  yet  he  seemed 
to  have  got  at  the  core  of  knowledge  ;  his  acquaint 
ance  with  poetry  (not  counting  Ellwood's)  was 
limited  to  the  songs  of  one  man  written  in  an  ob 
scure  dialect, — yet  that  one  guide  had  led  him 
into  the  land  of  immortal  day-dreams. 

The  firstlings  of  his  muse  Mr.  Whitticr  has  not 
chosen  to  place  among  his  maturer  productions ; 
and  there  seems  to  be  no  propriety  now,  in  the 
height  of  his  fame,  in  displaying  all  the  work  of 
his  'prentice  hand.  But  reference  must  be  made 
from  time  to  time  to  certain  poems  that  no  longer 
appear  in  the  "complete  edition,"  because  they 
form  parts  of  his  life,  and  mark  different  stages  of 
progress. 

That  rhythmic  thoughts  were  in  automatic  ac 
tion  in  his  mind,  like  warp  and  woof  knitted  by  the 
Hying  shuttle  in  his  mother's  loom,  there  can  be  no 
doubt.  The  Orient  had  come  into  the  scclmlrd 
valley  ;  nothing  in  Xature  was  remote ;  nothing  in 

5 


66  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

the  world  of  imagination  was  strange ;  nothing 
in  the  spiritual  realm  was  hidden.  The  creative 
faculty,  having  been  once  awakened,  will  not  sleep 
until  the  brain  ceases  to  throb. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  William  Lloyd  Gar 
rison  was  writing  for  the  "  Newburyport  Herald." 
He  was  but  three  years  older  than  Whittier,  and 
being^  an  indentured  apprentice,  and  not  sure  of 
his  ground  with  his  employer,  the  printer,  he  care 
fully  preserved  his  incognito  as  contributor.  He 
was  destined  to  exert  a  powerful  influence  upon 
the  character  and  career  of  Whittier.  In  1826 
he  established  in  Newburyport  the  "  Free  Press," 
and  we  learn  that  the  Whittier  family,  having 
subscribed  for  it,  were  greatly  pleased  with  the 
humanitarian  tone  of  its  articles. 

Whittier  remembers  with  singular  pleasure  the 
first  sight  of  his  poem  printed  in  the  "  Poet's  Cor 
ner  "  of  the  county  newspaper.  He  was  employed 
with  one  of  the  elders  mending  fences  when  the 
news-carrier  came  along  on  horseback,  and,  taking 
the  paper  from  his  saddle-bags,  threw  it  over  to 
them.  Whittier  took  it,  and  was  overjoyed  to  see 
his  lines.  He  stood  rooted  to  the  spot,  and  had 
to  be  called  several  times  before  he  could  return 
to  sublunary  affairs.  This  poem  was  probably 
"  The  Deity,"  which  is  referred  to  elsewhere. 


Early  Years.  67 

One  day  when  he  was  hoeing  in  the  cornfield 
in  the  summer  of  1826  word  came  that  a  carriage 
had  driven  up  to  the  house,  and  that  the  visitor 
had  inquired  for  one  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 
The  youth  hastened  towards  the  house  in  great 
astonishment,  and  entered  the  back  door  because 
he  was  not  presentable,  having  on  neither  coat, 
waistcoat,  nor  shoes, — only  a  shirt,  pantaloons,  and 
straw  hat.  Who  could  have  driven  out  to  see  him? 
After  being  shod  and  apparelled,  his  heart  still 
in  a  flutter,  he  appeared  before  the  stranger,  who 
proved  to  be  Garrison.  The  good  sister  Mary, 
it  appeared,  had  revealed  the  secret  of  the  author 
ship  of  the  poems,  and  the  generous  young  editor 
had  come  from  Newburyport  on  a  friendly  visit. 
W<  can  imagine  how  the  praise  affected  the  poet; 
for  the  manner  and  tones  of  Garrison  were  always 
hearty,  and  often  very  tender,  and  conveyed  an 
impression  of  absolute  sincerity.  His  position  as 
editor  gave  weight  also  to  his  words.  To  be  sure, 
the  "  Free  Press "  was  a  local  newspaper,  and  in 
one  sense  obscure ;  but  it  was  conducted  with  abil- 
ity  and  conscience,  and  it  reached  the  best  readers 
in  the  county.  For  a  young  man  who  had  never 
left  his  father's  farm  this  was  a  recognition  un 
expected  and  overwhelming.  It  was  a  glimpse  of 
fame. 


68  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

The  father  was  called  in,  and  the  prospects  of 
the  son  were  discussed,  —  the  father  remonstrating 
against  "  putting  notions  in  his  son's  head."  With 
warm  words  Garrison  set  forth  the  capabilities 
which  the  early  verses  indicated,  and  urged  that 
the  youth  be  sent  to  some  public  institution  for 
such  a  training  as  his  talents  demanded.  His 
clear  and  intelligent  counsel  made  a  deep  impres 
sion,  although  at  first  the  obstacles  seemed  in 
superable.  The  father  had  not  the  money  for  the 
purpose ;  the  farm  did  not  produce  more  than 
enough  for  the  necessary  expenses  of  the  family. 
But  the  son  pondered  upon  the  matter  and  deter 
mined  to  make  every  effort  to  secure  a  higher  and 
more  complete  education.  A  way  was  opened  for 
him  that  very  year, — not  by  charity  or  loan,- but 
by  the  labor  of  his  own  hands.  A  young  man,  who 
worked  for  the  elder  Whittier  on  the  farm  in  sum 
mer,  used  to  make  ladies'  slippers  and  shoes  during 
the  winter.  Seeing  the  desire  of  young  Whittier 
to  earn  money  for  his  schooling,  he  offered  to  in 
struct  him  in  the  "  mystery."  The  youth  eagerly 
accepted  the  offer,  and  during  the  following  season 
he  earned  enough  to  pay  for  a  suit  of  clothes  and 
for  his  board  and  tuition  for  six  months. 

It  may  appear  to  some  a  trivial  incident  to  men 
tion,  but  trifles  often  show  the  firmness  and  self- 


Early    Years.  69 

control  attained  by  those  TV -ho  have  contended  with 
adversity.  Whittier,  after  making  "  an  appropria 
tion  bill"  for  the  approaching  term  at  the  Academy, 
found  himself  u  square,"  bu  t  without  a  surplus. 
At  the  end  of  three  months',  he  still  had  a  single 
Mexican  quarter  of  a  dollar  'which  he  had  at  the 
outset,  not  having  spent  a  pcmny  except  as  previ 
ously  arranged  for  board,  tuiti-on,  and  books. 

The  departure  of  a  youth  fro  m  home  is  generally 
far  from  depressing  to  him,  however  sad  it  may 
be  for  the  family.  It  is  towards  the  future  that 
his  face  is  turned,  scanning  it {5  promise  with  eyes 
of  hope.  It  appears  a  light  rnatter  to  attend  a 
school  three  miles  distant,  retu-.rning  home  every 
week  to  spend  Sunday.  But  the  result  in  the  end 
is  a  separation  —  happily  unfor  esecn.  The  tree 
once  taken  from  native  soil  can  .never  be  replaced 
as  it  was.  It  does  not  appear  that  Whitticr  had 
rebelled  against  the  lot  of  labo.?,  or  of  seclusion 
in  an  out-of-the-way  place  ;  nor  t)  iat  he  had  been 
other  than  a  faithful,  honest  hel  per  of  his  hard 
working  parents ;  so  that  his  escape  into  the  great 
world  was  not  prompted  by  indo  Icnce  or  vanity. 
But  ideas  had  been  planted  in  his  mind  which 
must  needs  germinate  and  expand,  and  he  must 
at  any  cost  do  what  in  him  lay  V;o  increase  hi£ 
knowledge  and  develop  his  powers.  The  district- 


70  John  Greenheaf  Whittier. 

school  and  the  scanty  hc>me  library  had  done  for 
him  the  little  to  be  ex  pected.  Of  the  aspects  of 
nature  as  seen  in  his  "native  valley  and  the  beau 
tiful  surrounding  counl  ,ry  his  soul  was  full.  School 
masters  like  Coffin  ha,  d  given  him  aids  to  thought. 
Ridiculous  Jonathan  "Plummers  and  "  auld  carles" 
of  wandering  Scotchnqien  could  not  longer  feed  his 
mental  hunger.  Th»e  valley  and  its  associations 
were  to  be  left  behi  nd.  The  father  and  mother 
were  to  continue  their  lives  of  contented  toil,  with 
even  closer  economy  for  his  sake.  Mary  and 
Matthew  and  the  lijttle  Elizabeth  were  to  see  the 
elder  brother  leaving  them,  while  their  pride  in  his 
coming  fame  struggled  with  their  natural  tears. 

The  valley  wast  to  be  left  behind,  but  not  for 
gotten.  There  is.  no  instance  in  literary  history 
of  a  love  of  honife  and  family  more  conspicuous, 
more  intense  and  f.  lasting.  It  is  not  the  case  of  a 
placid  and  proper  /"affection,  but  of  an  all-absorbing 
feeling  which  ha*  5  animated  and  shaped  the  poet's* 
whole  life.  The  i  scenes  he  was  familiar  with  have 
reappeared  in  his ,  verse,  and  the  family  are  painted 
in  those  tender]  colors  over  which  Time  has  no 
power. 

The  poem  widch  was  the  turning-point  in  Whit- 
be  found  in  the  Appendix.     It  is 


•ieY's ' 
/ic       fSV&S8^011  of  the  sublime  passage  of  Scripture 


Early  Years.  71 

(1  Kings  xix.  11,  12)  in  which  the  prophet  relates 
th<'  appearance  of  the  Lord. 

"  And,  behold,  the  Lord  passed  by,  and  a  great  and 
strong  wind  rent  the  mountains,  and  brake  in  pieces  the 
rocks  before  the  Lord ;  but  the  Lord  was  not  in  the  wind : 
and  after  the  wind  an  earthquake  ;  but  the  Lord  was  not 
in  the  earthquake :  and  after  the  earthquake  a  fire ;  but 
the  Lord  was  not  hi  the  fire :  and  after  the  fire  a  still 
small  voice." 

The  poem  is  mainly  an  amplification,  really  add 
ing  nothing  to  the  severe  grandeur  of  the  text. 
When  a  poetic  thought  is  first  thrown  off  it  may 
be  likened  to  the  formless  mass  hurled  from  the 
central  body,  which  must  be  turned  patiently  before 
it  assumes  its  roundness,  and  still  more  before  the 
development  of  its  possibilities  of  beauty.  -There 
is  a  season  of  struggle  while  the  plastic  faculty 
is  first  giving  form  to  the  thought,  whether  vivid 
or  vague.  That  struggle  is  obvious  in  the  poem 
in  question.  The  prognostication  of  Garrison  was 
based  less  upon  the  success  of  the  effort  than  upon 
the  promise  which  the  teeming  lines  seemed  to 
indicate.  That  this  was  not  his  first  attempt  is 
certain ;  but  it  is  not  possible  now  to  find  copies 
of  the  early  productions. 


CHAPTER  V. 

YOUTH    AND   EARLY   MANHOOD. 

The  Academy.  —  Thayer,  Editor  of  the  "  Gazette."  —  Recollections 
of  Whittier  as  a  Youth,  by  Mrs.  Pitman.  —  His  Appearance, 
Manners,  and  Mental  Traits.  —  Teaches  School.  —  Academy 
again.  —  Edits  the  "American  Manufacturer"  in  Boston. — 
Writes  assiduously. — Edits  the  "Gazette."  —  Writes  for  the 
Hartford  "Review."  —  Is  praised  by  George  D.  Prentice. — 
His  Poetry  not  Imitative.  —  His  Intellectual  Life  secluded. 

T~N  April,  1827,  in  his  twentieth  year,  Whittier 
went  to  the  Academy  in  Haverhill.  It  was  a 
new  institution  in  a  new  building,  then  occupied  for 
the  first  time.  There  was  a  formal  dedication,  and 
Whittier  wrote  the  ode  that  was  sung  on  the  occa 
sion.  The  master  was  Oliver  Carlton,  who  died 
during  the  last  year  (1882)  at  Salem,  having 
attained  to  great  age.  Whittier  pursued  the  or 
dinary  English  studies,  and  took  lessons  in  French 
also.  He  remained  six  months  at  the  Academy, 
during  which  time  it  was  his  custom  to  return 
each  Friday  evening  and  spend  the  Sunday  at 
home.  The  fact  that  a  townsman  had  written  an 


)     'ih  and  Early  Manhood.  73 

ode  for  a  public  ceremony,  as  \\ell  as  verses  which 
had  nttuiin'il  the  honor  of  print,  was  known  in  the 
little  village,  and  he  was  naturally  a  youth  of  dis- 
ti  net  ion.  It  is  said  that  when  he  handed  in  his 
first  composition  in  prose,  —  an  exercise  required 
of  all  mature  pupils,  —  the  master  asked,  "Do  you 
mean  to  say  that  this  is  your  composition?" 
"  Yes,"  was  the  answer.  "  Do  you  say  you  wrote 
it  without  copying  either  language  or  thoughts  ?  " 
"  Yes."  "  Had  you  no  assistance  or  prompting 
from  any  one  ? "  "  No."  The  master  was  non 
plussed  ;  but  when,  week  after  week,  there  came 
other  themes  equally  original  and  striking,  incre 
dulity  gave  way  to  admiration,  and  from  that  time 
he  gave  him  counsel  as  a  friend  as  well  as  pupil. 
His  position  was  established  in  the  school  and  in 
the  village. 

He  boarded  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Abijah  Wyman 
Tl layer,  then  the  editor  and  publisher  of  the  Haver- 
hill  "  Gazette."  Mrs.  Thayer  is  still  living  (1883), 
at  an  advanced  age,  in  Northampton,  Mass.,  and 
takes  great  pleasure  in  recalling  her  impressions  of 
the  poet  in  his  youth.  She  remembers  his  hand 
some  face  and  figure,  and  the  appearance  of  extreme 
neatness  which  he  always  bore ;  but  she  has  more 
to  say  of  the  liveliness  of  his  temper,  his  ready  wit, 
his  perfect  courtesy  and  infallible  sense  of  truth 


74  John  Greenlcaf  Whittier. 

and  justice.  On  account  of  his  abilities  and  his 
exemplary  conduct,  no  less  than  on  account  of  his 
reputation  as  a  rising  poet,  his  society  was  much 
sought  after.  The  gatherings  of  young  people, 
she  says,  were  never  thought  complete  without 
Whittier ;  and  the  young  ladies  of  the  school  and 
village  were  never  quite  so  happy  as  when  they 
were  from  time  to  time  invited  to  her  house  to  tea. 
He  was  on  a  footing  of  intimacy  with  the  family 
of  Mr.  Thayer,  and,  whenever  he  came  to  Haverhill, 
made  their  house  his  home.  Long  after,  when  he 
went  to  Philadelphia,  he  became  once  more  an 
inmate  of  their  house,  —  Mr.  Thayer  having  set  up 
a  newspaper  in  that  city. 

Whittier  wrote  poems  for  the  "  Gazette  "  as  early 
as  the  year  1828,  and  perhaps  earlier;  and  his 
contributions  were  continued  at  intervals  for  nearly 
forty  years.1 

1  The  writer  has  made  diligent  search  for  a  complete  file  of  this 
newspaper,  thus  far  without  success.  There  are  a  few  annual  vol 
umes,  but  no  extended  sequence  of  them.  The  volumes  that  contain 
Whittier's  first  poems,  as  well  as  those  which  he  afterwards  edited, 
are  wholly  wanting.  He  wrote  one  poem  entitled  "  The  Grecian 
Woman,"  and  sent  it  to  Mr.  Thayer  with  a  note  dated  March  3, 
1828.  This  note,  preserved  by  a  relative  of  Whittier,  is  in  sub 
stance  as  follows  :  — 

"I  am  very  busy  now  [preparing  to  return  to  the  Academy], 
and  can  only  snatch  a  moment  now  and  then  from  the  fag-end 
of  a  day  to  read  or  write.  In  Morse's  '  Historical  Collections '  .  .  . 


Youth  and  Early  Manhood.  75 

Among  the  letters  received  by  the  author  is  one 
from  Mrs.  Harriet  M.  Pitman,  of  Somerville,  M;i— .. 
•who  was  a  native  of  Havcrhill,  and  daughter  of 
Judge  Minot.  The  letter  is  as  follows :  — 

"I  am  glad  that  Mr.  Whittier's  life  is  to  be  written 
whilst  he  is  in  this  world,  and  able  to  correct  errors.  .  .  . 
I  can  tell  you  notliing  of  him  as  a  boy.  I  wish  I  could, 
but  he  is  older  than  I,  lived  three  miles  from  the  village 
of  Haverhill  (where  my  father's  home  was),  and  was 
nearly  nineteen  years  old  when  I  first  saw  him.  He  was 
a  very  handsome,  distinguished-looking  young  man.  His 
eyes  were  remarkably  beautiful.  He  was  tall,  slight,  and 
very  erect ;  a  bashful  youth,  but  never  awkward,  my 
mother  said,  who  was  a  better  judge  than  I  of  such 
matters. 

"  He  went  to  school  awhile  at  Haverhill  Academy. 
There  were  pupils  of  all  ages,  from  ten  to  twenty-five. 
My  brother,  George  Minot,  then  about  ten  years  old, 
used  to  say  that  Whittier  was  the  best  of  all  the  big  fel 
lows,  and  he  was  in  the  habit  of  calling  him  'Uncle 
Toby.'  Whittier  was  always  kind  to  children,  and  under 

you  will  find  the  interesting  story  which  I  have  endeavored  to 
versify.     You  will  place  the  note  at  the  bottom  .  .  . 

"Thine  in  haste, 

"  J.  G.  WHITTIER." 

The  manuscript  of  this  poem,  "The  Grecian  Woman,"  came  into 
the  possession  of  S.  T.  Pickard,  of  the  "  Portland  Transcript,"  who 
published  it  in  his  paper  years  afterwards.  It  was  copied  by  the 
"  Anti-slavery  Standard"  in  the  same  year  (1858),  with  a  brief  note 
signed  "J.  G.  W." 


76  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

a  very  grave  and  quiet  exterior  there  was  a  real  love  of 
fun,  and  a  keen  sense  of  the  ludicrous.  In  society  he 
was  embarrassed,  and  his  manners  were,  in  consequence, 
sometimes  brusque  and  cold.  With  intimate  friends  he 
talked  a  great  deal,  and  in  a  wonderfully  interesting  man 
ner;  usually  earnest,  often  analytical,  and  frequently 
playful.  He  had  a  great  deal  of  wit.  It  was  a  family 
characteristic.  The  study  of  human  nature  was  very 
interesting  to  him,  and  his  insight  was  keen.  He  liked 
to  draw  out  his  young  friends,  and  to  suggest  puzzling 
doubts  and  queries. 

"When  a  wrong  was  to  be  righted,  or  an  evil  to  be 
remedied,  he  was  readier  to  act  than  any  young  man  I 
ever  knew,  and  was  very  wise  in  his  action,  —  shrewd, 
sensible,  practical.  The  influence  of  his  Quaker  bringing- 
up  was  manifest.  I  think  it  was  always  his  endeavor 

'  To  render  less 
The  sum  of  human  wretchedness.' 

This,  I  say,  was  his  steadfast  endeavor,  in  spite  of  an  in 
born  love  of  teasing.  He  was  very  modest,  never  con 
ceited,  never  egotistic. 

"  One  could  never  flatter  him.  I  never  tried,  but  I 
have  seen  people  attempt  it,  and  it  was  a  signal  failure. 
He  did  not  flatter,  but  told  very  wholesome  and  unpalata 
ble  truths,  yet  in  a  way  to  spare  one's  self-love  by  admit 
ting  a  doubt  whether  he  was  in  earnest  or  in  jest. 

"The  great  questions  of  Calvinism  were  subjects  of 
which  he  often  talked  in  those  early  days.  He  was  ex 
ceedingly  conscientious.  He  cared  for  people  —  quite  as 
much  for  the  plainest  and  most  uncultivated,  if  they  were 


Y»)Ah  and  Early  Manfwod.  77 

original  and  had  something  in  tlirni,  as  for  the  most 
polished. 

••  I  Ir  \vas  Hindi  interested  in  politics,  and  thoroughly 
posted.  I  remember,  in  one  of  his  first  calls  at  our  house, 
being  surprised  at  his  conversation  with  my  father  upon 
Governor  Gerry  and  the  GiTry-niandering  of  the  State, 
or  the  attempt  to  do  it,  of  which  I  hud  until  then  been 
wholly  ignorant. 

"  He  had  a  retentive  memory  and  a  marvellous  store  of 
information  on  many  subjects.  I  once  saw  a  little  com 
monplace  book  of  his,  —  full  of  quaint  things,  and  as 
interesting  as  Southey's. 

••  His  home  was  one  of  the  most  delightful  that  I  ever 
knew,  situated  in  a  green  valley,  where  was  a  laugh 
ing  brook,  fine  old  trees,  hills  near  by,  and  no  end  of  wild 
flowers.  AVhat  did  they  want  of  the  music  and  pictures 
which  man  makes,  when  they  had  eyes  to  see  the  beauties 
of  nature,  ears  to  hear  its  harmonies,  and  imaginations  to 
reproduce  them  ?  It  makes  me  impatient  to  hear  people 
talk  of  the  dulness  and  sordidness  of  young  life  in  New 
England  fifty  years  ago  !  There  was  nature  with  its  infi 
nite  variety  ;  there  were  books,  the  best  ever  written, 
and  not  too  many  of  them ;  there  were  young  men  and 
maidens  with  their  eager  enthusiasm ;  there  were  great 
problems  to  be  solved,  boundless  fields  of  knowledge  to 
explore,  a  heaven  to  believe  in,  and  neighbors  to  do  good 
to.  Life  was  very  full. 

••  AVliittier's  home  was  exceptionally  charming  on  ac 
count  of  the  character  of  its  inmates.  His  father,  a  sen 
sible  and  estimable  man,  died  before  I  knew  the  home. 
His  mother  was  serene,  dignified,  benevolent,  —  a  woman 


78  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

of  good  judgment,  fond  of  reading  the  best  books,  —  a 
woman  to  honor  and  severe.  His  aunt,  Mercy  Hussey, 
who  lived  with  them,  was  an  incarnation  of  gracefulness 
and  graciousness,  of  refinement  and  playfulness,  —  an  ideal 
lady.  His  sister  Elizabeth,  *  the  youngest  and  the  dearest,' 
shared  his  poetic  gifts,  and  was  a  sweet,  rare  person,  de 
voted  to  her  family  and  friends,  kind  to  every  one,  full  of 
love  for  all  beautiful  things,  and  so  merry  when  in  good 
health,  that  her  companionship  was  always  exhilarating. 
I  cannot  imagine  her  doing  a  wrong  thing,  or  having  an 
unworthy  thought.  She  was  deeply  religious,  and  so  were 
they  all. 

"I  have  said  nothing  of  Whittier  in  his  relations  to 
women.  There  was  never  a  particle  of  coxcombry  about 
him.  He  was  delicate  and  chivalrous,  but  paid  few  of  the 
little  attentions  common  in  society.  If  a  girl  dropped  her 
glove  or  handkerchief  in  his  presence,  she  had  to  pick  it 
up  again,  especially  if  she  did  it  on  purpose. 

"  I  was  about  to  speak  of  his  thrift  and  frugality,  and 
of  his  independence,  —  of  which  I  knew  striking  instances, 
—  and  of  his  early  taking  upon  himself  the  care  of  the 
family.  ...  I  have  not  mentioned  the  anti-slavery 
cause,  the  subject  nearest  his  heart  after  the  year  1833, 
the  subject  about  which  he  talked  most,  for  which  he 
labored  most,  and  to  which  he  was  most  devoted.  All 
his  friends  became  abolitionists.  I  was  deeply  in  sym 
pathy  with  him  on  this  question ;  but  this  is  a  matter  of 
history,  and  he  should  recount  his  own  experience." 

This  vivid,  intelligent,  contemporaneous  view  of 
Whittier  in  his  youth,  by  an  observer  so  evidently 


Youth  and  Early  Manhood.  79 

potent,  is  worth  pages  of  supposition  or  vagiie 
eulogy. 

At  the  close  of  this  term,  which  was  in  the  au 
tumn  of  1827,  Whit  tier  had  his  first  and  only  expe 
rience  as  a  teacher.  He  taught  the  district  school 
for  the  following  winter  at  West  Amesbury,  now 
.Mt  1 1  iniae.  In  the  spring  he  returned  to  the  Acad 
emy,  and  passed  another  six  months  in  study. 

Meantime,  as  the  "  Free  Press  "  had  been  unsuc 
cessful,  Garrison  had  gone  to  Boston  and  es 
tablished  the  "National  Philanthropist."  It  was 
through  his  friendly  interposition  that  a  place  was 
found  for  Whittier,  in  the  autumn  of  1828,  as  a 
writer  for  the  "  American  Manufacturer."  This 
paper  was  an  advocate  of  protection  to  home  in 
dustry,  and  was  friendly  to  Henry  Clay,  the  great 
champion  of  that  policy.  Whittier  really  edited  the 
paper,  though  not  named  or  paid  as  editor.  He 
boarded  for  a  short  time  with  Garrison  in  the 
family  of  the  Rev.  William  Collier.  His  contribu 
tions  to  that  sheet  are  comparatively  unimportant, 
and  the  topics  are  now  out  of  date.  As  his  salary 
was  meagre  and  inadequate,  —  nine  dollars  a  week, 
—  and  as  his  help  was  needed  on  the  farm,  he 
returned  home  in  June,  1829,  and  there  remained 
until  July,  1830. 

During  this  period,  from  1828  to  1830,  Whittier 


8o  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

wrote  much,  both  in  prose  and  verse.  John  Neal, 
of  Portland,  Me.,  a  brilliant  but  eccentric  man, 
who  had  achieved  a  temporary  reputation  in  Eng 
land,  and  who  was  long  supposed  to  be  on  the  eve 
of  writing  something  great,  edited  and  published, 
in  1828,  a  magazine  entitled  "  The  Yankee,"  which 
at  the  end  of  the  year  was  "  merged  "  in  a  Boston 
monthly.  Four  or  more  poems  by  Whittier  ap 
peared  in  this  periodical,  some  of  them  several 
pages  in  length.  The  subjects  were  either  roman 
tic  or  scriptural,  and  the  treatment  was  meant  to 
be  in  the  heroic  vein.  None  of  them  have  great 
merit,  and  they  will  not  be  disturbed  in  their 
repose  by  any  true  friend  of  the  poet.  In  one  of 
them  ("  The  Minstrel  Girl ")  there  is  a  passage 
full  of  promise,  —  quoted  in  a  succeeding  page. 

There  cannot  be  any  doubt  that  this  intellectual 
discipline  was  of  the  utmost  service  reflexively. 
Whittier  was  at  an  age  when  more  fortunate  young 
men  in  college  were  wrestling  with  mathematics, 
Greek,  and  philosophy.  This  training  was  denied 
him ;  and  in  place  of  it  came  the  constant  and  labo 
rious  practice,  both  in  prose  and  verse,  by  which  his 
faculties  were  made  the  ready  instruments  of  his 
creative  soul.  No ;  the  juvenile  poems  are  not  to 
be  wholly  despised  !  They  are  the  sunken  piles  that 
stand  under  the  slowly  reared  edifice  of  his  fame. 


Youth  and  Early  Manhood.  81 

During  the  first  six  months  of  1830  he  was 
employed  as  editor  of  the  "  Gazette"  of  Haverhill,1 
doing  his  work  at  his  father's  house.  He  was  also 
writing  articles  in  prose  and  verse  for  the  "New 
England  \\Yrkly  Rrviru,"  of  Hartford,  Conn.,  as 
we  shall  see  more  fully  hereafter. 

The  quick  instinct  of  contemporary  editors  had 
perceived  something  original  and  promising  in  the 
writ  ings  of  Whit  tier,  even  at  that  early  age;  and 
the  frequent  literary  notices  of  the  time  show  that 
among  the  fraternity  he  was  already  widely  known. 
His  early  poems  had  obtained  considerable  popu 
larity,  and  though  nearly  all  have  been  suppressed, 
several  of  them  are  interesting  and  valuable  as 
indications  of  his  experience  and  progress. 

The  extracts  that  follow,  copied  from  the  "  New 
England  Review,"  December,  1829,  will  show  the 
estimation  in  which  he  was  held  in  his  twenty- 
second  year. 

"  J.    G.    WHITTIER. 

"  '  The  culmination  of  that  man's  fame  will  be  a  proud 
period  in  the  history  of  our  literature.'  This  generous 
tribute  to  the  abilities  of  our  friend  Whittier  was  con 
tained  in  a  letter  which  we  recently  received  from  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  men  in  the  country.  The 

1  The  files  of  this  paper  in  the  Haverhill  Public  Library  are  im 
perfect  ;  this  period,  1830,  also  1836,  being  wanting. 


82  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

tribute   was  merited.     Whittier   is   a  poet  and  a  Chris 
tian.  .  .  . 

"  There  is  a  poem  by  Whittier  in  the  last  number  of 
the  l  Yankee,'  which  but  for  its  length  we  should  be 
pleased  to  quote  entire.  'T  is  less  powerful  and  sublime 
than  many  of  his  other  performances,  but  almost  every 
part  of  it  is  surprisingly  beautiful. 

'  The  sun  went  down,  and,  broad  and  red, 

One  moment  on  the  burning  wave 
Rested  his  front  of  fire  to  shed 

A  glory  round  his  ocean  grave : 
And  sunset,  —  far  and  gorgeous  hung 

A  banner  from  the  wall  of  Heaven, 
A  wave  of  living  glory,  flung 

Along  the  shadowy  verge  of  even. 
The  trees  were  leaning  on  the  west, 

Like  watchers  of  the  golden  sky, 
Trembling  as  if  the  sunset's  breast 

In  that  warm  light  were  beating  high. 
And  Agnes  watched  the  glory.     Slow 

But  beautiful  the  stars  came  down, 
And  on  the  sky's  unrivalled  brow 

The  bended  moon  sat  like  a  crown.'  " 

How  far  this  passage  is  inferior  to  the  work 
of  his  maturer  years  need  not  be  said.  But  we 
observe  a  sense  of  color  and  a  glow  of  feeling  that 
belong  to  bards  by  native  right. 

A  survey  of  his  career  as  a  whole  shows  that 
he  is  not  —  as  it  is  the  fashion  to  say  —  the  prod 
uct  of  his  age.  That  much  of  his  poetry  has  been 


Youth  and  Early  Manhood.  83 

devoted  to  great  moral  and  humanitarian  topics, 
is  due  to  the  fact  that  he  lived  when  those  topics 
were  paramount  in  the  minds  of  men.  Circum- 
staiu.-s  inndi-  him  u  reformer,  but  God  only  made 
him  a  poet. 

The  influences  which  moulded  the  character  and 
affected  the  poems  of  Longfellow,  Bryant,  Emer 
son,  Holmes,  and  Lowell,  were  almost  wholly  for 
eign  to  the  narrow  circle  that  enclosed  Whittier. 
As  a  member  of  the  Friends,  the  current  literature 
of  the  great  world  was  unknown  to  him.  The 
culture  and  learning  of  Cambridge  and  Boston  had 
not  penetrated  the  East  Parish  of  Haverhill,  nor 
moulded  the  tastes  of  the  group  depicted  in  "  Snow 
Bound."  There  is  no  probability  that  there  was 
any  correspondence  between  Whittier  and  the  lead 
ing  poets  until  many  years  later.  His  first  im 
pulses  were  inborn,  not  imitative. 

Generations  of  God-fearing  ancestors  were  be 
hind  him,  and  the  sympathy  of  a  noble  household 
had  sustained  and  animated  him.  Every  faculty 
of  his  being  was  pervaded  by  the  desire  to  put 
himself  at  the  service  of  God  in  the  affairs  of  his 
day.  This  devotion  and  singleness  of  aim  were 
to  characterize  him  and  his  works  throughout  his 
long  and  fruitful  life. 

Whittier's  youth  and  brief  apprenticeship  were 


84  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

over,  and  he  was  about  to  begin  the  work  of  his 
life.  He  had  made  the  best  of  scanty  opportu 
nities,  and,  considering  his  imperfect  training  and 
his  naturally  impetuous  temper,  he  had  made  few 
failures.  His  sincere  and  just  mind  and  character, 
aided  by  unfailing  tact,  supplied  the  place  of  what 
are  termed  cultivated  manners,  so  that  the  plough- 
boy  manifested  the  simple  dignity  and  courtesy  of 
a  gentleman.  His  religious  training  had  led  to 
more  than  a  conformity  to  moral  rules ;  it  had 
developed  in  him  the  sublime  sense  of  duty  as 
something  to  be  followed  at  any  cost.  Ideas,  in 
stitutions,  and  laws,  as  well  as  social  usages,  were 
to  be  tried  by  the  standard  of  right.  Literature 
was  useful  as  it  elevated  mankind,  or  as  it  tended 
to  lessen  human  suffering ;  and  the  poet's  art  was 
to  be  devoted  unswervingly  to  the  same  service. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

WRITING  FOB  THE  PRESS. 

Popular  Poets  in  1830.  —  Day  of  Small  Things.  —  Savage  Mode  of 
Criticism.  —  Specimens  of  Amenities.  —  Sketch  of  Prentice.  — 
"NVhittier  succeeds  him  as  Editor.  — Specimens  of  Early  Verses. 
Life  in  Hartford.  —  Visits  Haverhill,  and  remains  until  after  the 
Death  of  his  Father.  —  Resigns  his  Position  as  Editor. 

~TN  the  author's  sketches  of  Longfellow  and 
•  Lowell  there  are  paragraphs  concerning  the 
poets  of  the  United  States  who  were  living  and 
popular  in  1830.  None  of  them  survive,  and  few 
of  their  productions  enjoy  great  favor  to-day. 
Besides  Longfellow,  the  most  eminent  were  Dana, 
Bryant,  John  Neal,  Drake,  Halleck,  Sprague,  Gren- 
ville  Mellen,  Mrs.  Sigourney,  Percival,  and  Pier- 
pont.  Emerson  was  known  only  as  an  essayist,  if 
known  at  all ;  and  Willis  was  born  in  the  same 
year  with  Whittier.  No  one  of  these  could  have 
influenced  Whittier  in  the  least.  He  was  wholly 
outside  the  current  of  theological  discussion  that 
affected  so  many ;  out  of  hearing,  also,  of  the 


86  John  Greenkaf  Whittier. 

conflict  between  "  schools "  of  poetry  which  fol 
lowed  the  ascendency  of  Wordsworth  and  his  dis 
ciples.  Whittier  was  of  no  school,  except  as  the 
thought  and  impulse  of  the  hour  might  shape  his 
verse.  In  his  early  poems  we  observe  the  influ 
ence  of  Burns,  —  a  congenial  nature,  —  and  in  some 
of  them,  more  strongly,  the  rhythm  and  kindling 
energy  of  Scott.  It  was  at  a  later  day  that  he 
turned  to  the  elder  masters,  and  could  write 

"  I  love  the  old  melodious  lays 
Which  softly  melt  the  ages  through, 

The  songs  of  Spenser's  golden  days, 
Arcadian  Sidney's  silver  phrase, 
Sprinkling  our  noon  of  time  with  freshest  morning  dew." 

But  it  should  be  added  that  the  poems  of  his  ma 
turity  have  not  the  least  echo ;  they  are  wholly 
without  suggestion  of  influences  from  masters  or 
predecessors. 

For  a  sensitive,  shy,  reserved,  self-respecting 
young  man,  with  high  ideals  and  perfect  courtesy, 
there  could  be  few  trials  more  annoying  than  those 
which  beset  the  editor  of  a  political  and  literary 
newspaper  in  the  year  1830.  Usually  an  editor 
was  forced  into  the  position  of  an  Ishmaelite ; 
and,  as  there  were  blows  to  take  as  well  as  blows 
to  give,  the  literary  arena  (metaphorically)  was 
something  like  its  ancient  namesake.  Or  shall  we 


Writing  for  the  Press.  87 

say  more  truly  that  it  was  a  playground  for  "Inir" 
by  grown-up  boys?  Editors  appeared  to  pride  them 
selves  chiefly  on  their  ability  to  make  rivals  ridicu 
lous.  Justice,  good  manners,  and  even  decency 
were  lost  sight  of.  As  the  most  eminent  incurred 
the  most  envy,  they  were  naturally  the  marks  for 
all  the  arrows.  Willis  was  by  far  the  most 
sprightly,  versatile,  and  original  of  the  younger 
writers,  as  was  shown  by  the  persistent  attacks 
upon  him  by  foes  of  all  arms.  Such  paragraphs  as 
were  written,  read,  and  chuckled  over !  It  would 
give  the  most  audacious  editor  to-day  a  cold  sweat 
to  think  of  printing  such  familiar  blackguardism. 
It  was  as  if,  in  some  crowded  assembly  of  best 
people,  a  man  should  break  out  with  the  gibes  of 
a  Rabelais. 

Here  are  a  few  paragraphs  culled  from  a  literary 
paper  in  1829.  It  will  be  seen  that  journalism 
rightly  called  personal  was  in  its  glory.  We  may 
add  that  in  this  "literary"  warfare  the  personal 
journalist  is  seen  at  his  best.  His  diatribes  against 
rivals  in  politics  would  now  need  translation;  and 
being  translated,  one  would  wish  them  covered  up 
again  and  put  out  of  sight. 

"  American  periodicals  are  perhaps  improving  in  their 
character,  but  they  are  yet  the  double-distilled  essence  of 
all  the  available  dulness  in  the  universe." 


88  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

An  inspection  of  a  great  many  files  of  that  time 
has  led  us  to  think  this  sweeping  statement  is 
mainly  true. 

"  If  Mr.  Willis  continues,  after  this,  to  indulge  in  the 
puerilities  that  have  characterized  his  writings,  he  must  be 
pronounced  incorrigible.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Hale  in  the  last  num 
ber  of  her  magazine  takes  the  pretty  fellow  upon  her 
knee,  and  after  patting  him  kindly  on  the  head,  fairly 
laughs  him  in  the  face  for  writing  muling  sonnets  about 
girls,  kisses,  and  blossoms.  Mr.  W.  has  come  to  this 
pass  by  obstinately  refusing  to  follow  our  advice.  We 
have  labored  to  make  a  man  of  him,  but  the  ungrateful 
urchin  has  perked  up  his  smart  little  nose,"  &c. 

Alluding  to  some  quarrel  between  Willis  and 
Mr.  W.  Gaylord  Clarke  of  the  "Knickerbocker," 
the  editor  says  :  — 

"  Be  quiet,  young  man  !  If  you  are  as  much  inferior 
to  Clarke  in  physical  as  in  mental  strength,  he  would 
with  one  hand  toss  you  out  of  the  circle  of  the  earth's 
attraction,  and  with  the  other  take  a  spy-glass  and  see 
you  move  through  space." 

"  JOHN  NEAL.  We  were  never  so  long  employed  in 
any  single  job  as  in  killing  this  man's  Monthly.  We 
announced  our  intention  of  doing  the  work  for  it  almost 
as  soon  as  it  made  its  appearance,  and  yet  it  lived  six 
months  in  spite  of  us.  The  thing  had  more  breath  in 
it  than  we  imagined.  John  has  now  united  himself  with 
Mrs.  Hale  in  writing  for  the  4  Lady's  Magazine.'  This 
is  a  cowardly  deed.  We  never  thought  him  a  fellow  of 


\Vritiny  for  the  Press.  89 

much  courage,  but  we  did  suppose  that  he  had  too  much 
manhood  to  run  and  huh-  himself  behind  a  lady  in  order 
to  escape  our  castigation.  He  is,  however,  safe,"  &c. 

"  EDITOR'S  TABLE.  Nothing  before  us  this  time  but 
sour  bread,  cold  codfish,  and  an  impudent  host." 

••  We  wish  it  were  fashionable  for  ladies  to  have  Poet- 
Laureats  \_sic~\ ;  we  would  endeavor  to  get  permission 

for to  attach  liiinx-lf  in  that  capacity  to  some  soft 

litth'  miss  of  fifteen,  who  should  repay  him  for  his  ser 
vices  by  ordering  for  him  a  piece  of  bread-and-butter  for 
every  sonnet.  Her  canaries,  poet-laureat,  and  lap-dog 
might  eat  from  the  same  dish." 

Threatening  to  publish  the  biography  of  a  rival, 
the  editor  says :  - 

••  We  have  been  at  work  upon  it  for  a  year  with  a  pen 
made  of  the  horn  of  a  rhinoceros,  sharpened  with  a  broad- 
axe  and  nibbed  with  a  guillotine.  He  is  afraid  of 
us,"  &c. 

"  His  attempts  at  poetical  criticism  are  the  awkward 
caperings  of  an  overgrown  mule  mistaking  himself  for  a 
pet  fawn,  and  lifting  his  great  muddy  hoofs  into  the  laps 
of  the  Muses." 

These  pleasant  interchanges  of  courtesy  appear 
to  have  seldom  led  to  violence,  although  personal 
conflicts  were  more  common  then  than  now.  A 
newspaper  paragraph  (1831)  relates  that  a  leading 
N(  \\  York  editor  had  been  carrying  on  one  of  tin  >c 
duels  on  paper  with  the  poet  Bryant,  who  was  also 


90  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

an  editor,  in  the  same  city,  and  that  the  latter, 
coming  upon  his  antagonist  in  Broadway,  gave 
him  a  rousing  cut  across  the  face  with  a  cowhide ; 
whereupon  the  first  named  retorted  with  a  cane, 
"  developing  upon  the  poetical  cranium  of  his 
assailant  more  organs  than  a  phrenologist  ever 
dreamed  of.'7 

Whittier  was  editor  for  a  year  and  a  half  of  a 
paper  in  Hartford,  Conn.,  styled  the  "  New  England 
Weekly  Review."  He  succeeded  George  D.  Pren 
tice,  a  native  of  Connecticut,  but  who  was  better 
known  in  after  years  as  an  editor  in  Kentucky. 
We  are  considering  Prentice  as  he  is  autotyped 
in  the  first  newspaper  he  published.  He  was  a 
man  of  ready  wit,  of  almost  boyish  liveliness,  and 
the  discretion  appertaining  thereto, — with  unusual 
command  of  language  and  facility  in  verse,  and 
was  thought  to  be  on  the  road  to  eminence  as  a 
poet.  This  might  have  been  the  case,  if  he  had 
continued  in  a  literary  career,  and  had  concen 
trated  his  evident  powers  upon  study ;  but  his 
energies  were  subsequently  given  to  politics,  and 
he  has  left  little  more  than  a  widely  known  name, 
and  a  great  regret.  There  was  a  charming  genial 
ity  in  his  speech  and  manner,  and  at  times  in 
his  writing;  and  he  strongly  attracted  ambitious 
youths  of  the  period.  He  was  as  generous  in  praise 


Writing  for  the  Press.  9 1 

of  prot'-gfs  as  he  was  sarcastic  towards  rivals. 
Whitticr  had  sent  him  some  of  his  compositions, 
both  in  poetry  and  prose,  which  were  printed  :md 
praised  in  the  ••  Review,"  and  a  correspondence 
ensued.  We  have  already  seen  Prentice's  estimate 
of  him.  As  a  prelude  to  the  approaching  presi 
dential  campaign  of  1832,  Prentice  undertook  to 
write  the  life  of  Henry  Clay,  and  for  that  purpose 
eventually  went  to  Lexington,  Ky.  Perhaps  he 
did  not  seriously  intend  to  return  to  the  East. 
Hartford  was  not  a  very  important  place  at  that 
time,  and  it  is  believed  that  the  income  of  an 
editor  was  too  narrow  for  a  man  of  his  expensive 
tastes.  Be  that  as  it  may,  after  finishing  his  book 
in  Lexington  he  went  to  Louisville,  where  he 
founded  the  "  Journal,"  a  newspaper  since  well 
knmvn  throughout  the  country.  For  years  his 
witty  sayings  were  quoted  with  zest  by  his  con 
temporaries,  and  he  continued  to  write  and  to 
encourage  the  poetry  of  sentiment,  —  such  lightly 
weighted  sentiment  as  delights  young  and  unso 
phisticated  readers.  He  and  Mrs.  Amelia  Welby, 
who  wrote  for  his  paper,  may  almost  be  said  to 
have  founded  a  southwestern  school,  of  which 
melody  and  beautiful  adjectives  are  the  chief  char 
acteristics.  It  was  almost  prophetic  that  Pope  so 
long  ago  had  written  in  his  Imitations  of  Horace  :  — 


92  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  Lull  with  Amelia's  liquid  name  the  Mne, 
And  sweetly  flow  through  all  the  royal  line." 

We  are  not  to  follow  the  career  of  Prentice,  and 
we  can  say  in  a  few  words  that  he  was  a  man  of 
great  natural  force,  and  with  a  capacity  (were  he 
duly  ballasted)  for  doing  great  things;  and  that 
his  renown  as  an  influential  editor  is  a  small  com 
pensation  for  the  loss  which  our  literature  sustained 
by  his  abandoning  the  more  laborious  and  self- 
denying  career  he  had  first  chosen. 

When  Prentice  was  about  to  leave,  the  pub 
lishers  of  the  "  Review  "  at  his  suggestion  sent  for 
Whittier  to  take  the  place  of  editor.  Whittier  has 
stated  that  he  felt  himself  hardly  equal  to  the  posi 
tion,  but  accepted  it  because  he  was  unwilling  to 
lose  the  chance  of  doing  something  in  accordance 
with  his  growing  tastes.  A  sure  instinct  was  lead 
ing  him  by  ways  not  known  towards  the  pursuit  of 
pure  literature.  Prentice  in  his  Farewell  (July  5, 
1830)  says :  — 

"  Mr.  J.  G.  Whittier,  an  old  favorite  with  the  public, 
will  probably  have  charge  of  the  '  Review '  in  my  absence, 
and  I  cannot  do  less  than  congratulate  my  readers  on 
the  prospect  of  their  more  familiar  acquaintance  with  a 
gentleman  of  such  powerful  energies  and  such  exalted 
purity  and  sweetness  of  character.  I  have  made  some 
enemies  among  those  whose  good  opinion  I  value,  but  no 
rational  man  can  ever  be  the  enemy  of  Mr.  Whittier." 


M  >///////  for  thr  Press.  93 

The  succeeding  numbers  of  the  paper  show 
Whit-tier's  hand,  and  in  that  for  July  19  his  Salu 
tatory  is  printed.  Evidently  he  considered  himself 
a  locum  tenens,  and  it  was  not  until  September  20 
that  I  Yen  tier's  retirement  was  announced  as  final. 

The  industry  and  the  versatility  of  Whittier  as 
shown  in  this  service  are  remarkable  :  at  least  forty- 
two  poems  were  published  during  his  connection 
with  the  paper,  besides  a  great  number  of  prose 
sketches  and  tales,  in  addition  to  the  regular  edito 
rials  and  current  comment. 

The  poems  from  this  periodical,  preserved  in  the 
complete  edition,  are  "  The  Frost  Spirit,"  "  The 
Cities  of  the  Plain,"  and  "  The  Vaudois  Teacher."  l 
The  poems  "  Isabella  of  Austria"  and  "  Bolivar  " 
are  to  be  seen  in  the  Appendix.  The  reader  will 
probably  regret  that  such  really  fine  verse  has  been 
so  long  neglected.  "  The  Vaudois  Teacher  "  was 
translated  into  French  many  years  ago,  and  has 
long  been  read  and  treasured  among  the  primitive 
Protestants  of  the  valleys  of  the  lower  Alps.  For 
more  than  a  generation  these  people  supposed  that 
it  was  the  original  production  of  some  French  poet ; 
but  at  length  it  became  known  that  the  poem  so  dear 

1  The  author's  file  of  the  "  New  England  Review  "  is  not  com 
plete.  "The Star  of  Bethlehem  "  was  written  in  1830,  but  for  what 
periodical  is  not  certain. 


94  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

to  their  hearts  was  the  work  of  an  American  ;  and  at 
a  general  assembly  of  their  churches  not  long  ago 
an  affectionate  address  was  adopted  and  forwarded 
to  Whittier. 

In  the  number  for  October,  1830,  is  a  noble  apos 
trophe  to  New  England,  beginning  :  — 

"  Land  of  the  forest  and  the  rock,  — 

Of  dark  blue  lake  and  mighty  river,  — 
Of  mountains  reared  aloft  to  mock 
The  storm's  career,  the  lightning's  shock,  — 
My  own  green  land  forever." 

Parts  of  this  poem  were  afterwards  incorporated 
with  another  poem,  "  Moll  Pitcher,"  which,  like 
many  others,  has  been  suppressed.  One  passage, 
we  think,  should  be  quoted  as  a  part  of  the  poet's 
inner  life.  His  judgment  in  suppressing  it  was  cor 
rect  —  at  the  time  ;  but  now  that  years  have  passed, 
and  the  prophetic  intimation  has  been  more  than 
realized,  it  will  give  a  heart-felt  pleasure  to  his  ad 
mirers  to  know  what  high  thoughts  were  in  the 
brain  of  a  youth  of  two-and-twenty. 

"  Land  of  my  fathers  !  if  the  name, 
Now  humble  and  unwed  to  fame, 

Hereafter  burn  upon  the  lip 
As  one  of  those  which  may  not  die, 

Linked  in  eternal  fellowship 
With  visions  pure  and  strong  and  high,  — 
If  the  wild  dreams  which  quicken  now 
The  throbbing  pulse  of  heart  and  brow, 


Writing  for  the  Press.  95 

Hereafter  take  a  real  form, 

Like  spectres  changed  to  beings  warm, 

Antl  <>vrr  u-nijilr>  worn  and  <jra\ 
The  star-like  crown  of  glory  shine, 

Thine  be  tin-  bard's  undying  lay, 
The  murmur  «»f  his  praisr  IK-  thine  !  " 

There  is  a  modesty  ull'irk-il  and  false  ;  and  there 
is  a  self-esteem  which  is  unconsciously  simple  and 
noble.  As  Whittirr's  conceptions  grew  definite, 
and  his  power  to  clothe  them  in  enduring  verse  in 
creased,  such  thoughts  as  breathe  in  this  memora 
ble  passage  were  natural,  and  they  naturally  sought 
rxpivssion.  The  exegi  monumentum  of  Horace  we 
remember,  and  we  read  without  shock  the  predic 
tion  of  Shakespeare :  — 

"  Not  marble,  nor  the  gilded  monuments 
Of  princes,  shall  outlive  this  powerful  rhyme." 

And  now  that  the  crown  rests  without  question 
upon  the  "  temples  worn  and  gray,"  we  can  enter 
into  the  feeling  which  inspired  Whittier's  early 
verse. 

The  reader  will  look  through  the  file  in  vain  to 
find  the  virulence  of  temper  or  the  offensive  per 
sonality  which  constituted  then  so  large  an  element 
of  journalism;  though  perhaps  his  references  to 
the  editor  of  the  "  Hartford  Times  "  were  not  quite 
what  an  older  head  would  have  indited.  Whittier 
was  just  and  sagacious.  He  was  ready  to  recognize 


96  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

merit,  and  he  had  the  tact  and  taste  to  avoid  con 
troversy.  He  ardently  supported  Henry  Clay  and 
the  "  American  System."  He  was  a  firm  advocate 
of  Temperance,  of  Freedom,  and  of  Religion  ;  but 
he  never  let  fly  at  individuals  the  pestilent  darts 
which  his  predecessor  knew  so  well  how  to  use. 
When  rival  newspapers  attacked  Prentice  after  his 
departure,  they  found  the  Quaker  editor  a  stout 
friend  of  the  absent.  For  a  professed  peace-man, 
Whittier  was  one  of  the  most  resolute  and  uncom 
promising. 

Not  much  is  remembered  of  his  life  in  Hartford. 
It  was  not  a  large  city,  but  was  relatively  busier 
than  now ;  because  in  those  days  before  railroads 
it  was  accessible  to  schooners  and  brigs  by  the 
river,  and  it  had  a  respectable  coastwise  and  West 
Indian  trade.  The  newspaper  from  which  we  have 
quoted  is  full  of  curious  advertisements,  —  "  W.  I. 
Goods"  —  the  "Victory"  steamboat,  fare  to  New 
York  one  dollar,  meals  extra  —  runaway  appren 
tices —  lucky  lottery  offices  —  fashionable  cloths, 
with  names  now  obsolete,  —  "  Souvenirs,"  and  other 
forgotten  annuals  —  new  books,  now  out  of  print  — 
more  lottery  schemes — wine  from  Lisbon  and 
Cadiz  —  daily  stages  to  Boston  and  other  remote 
regions  —  flannels,  for  which  beans  and  dried 
apples  are  received  in  payment,  —  forgotten  nos- 


Writing  for  the  Press.  97 

trimis.  Verily  these  old  advertisements  arc  full  of 
topics  for  meditation.  It  is  odd,  too,  to  read  of  the 
contemporary  efforts  of  Daniel  AVcbstor,  such  as 
the  "  Reply  to  Hayne"  and  the  argument  against 
the  murderers  of  Judge  White.  To  follow  tlui 
news  week  by  week  is  to  live  over  the  time  when 
Callioun,  Randolph,  Clay,  Jackson,  Adams,  and 
Mr  Duffle  played  their  parts  on  the  stage. 

Whittier  appears  to  have  boarded  at  the  Ex 
change  Coffee  House,  which  stood  on  the  north 
west  side  of  the  State  House.  His  manner  of 
life  was  nearly  as  grave  and  solitary  as  now.  His 
health  was  generally  delicate,  although  by  constant 
can-  he  was  able  to  accomplish  much.  He  made 
some  trips  into  the  country,  notably  to  what  is  now 
known  as  Talcott  Mountain,  and  to  the  groups  of 
hills  between  Hartford  and  New  Haven,  and  he 
faithfully  described  them  in  prose. 

In  March,  1831,  he  made  a  visit  to  Haverhill  and 
spent  some  time  at  the  old  homestead.  Two  pleas 
ant  letters  record  his  impressions  of  the  long  and 
fat  inning  journey  and  of  his  hearty  welcome  by  the 
family  and  friends.  A  few  sentences  are  quoted. 

"I  have  had  a  shocking  time  of  it,  and  ever  since 
have  dreamed  of  stages  upset,  of  ten-feet  snow-drifts,  and 
mud  immeasurable  and  interminable.  Every  bone  in 
my  body  aches  at  the  bare  idea  of  my  journey.  I  would 

7 


98  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

as  soon  ride  bare-backed  the  Rozinante  of  Don  Quixote. 
...  A  conveyance  in  that  rascally  French  diligence 
which  Sterne  complains  of  would  be  a  luxury  to  it ;  and 
I  can  easily  imagine  how  poor  Sancho  Panza  must  have 
suffered  while  tossed  in  the  blanket  by  the  muleteers  at 
the  enchanted  inn.  When  I  left  Hartford  I  was  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  disciple  of  Penn  and  Ellwood ; 
but  before  I  reached  the  end  of  my  journey  I  was  to  all 
intents  and  purposes  a  Shaking  Quaker." 

He  passes  a  night  in  pretty  and  rural  Worcester, 
and  admires  by  moonlight  its  green  spaces  and 
abundant  elms.  He  stops  a  few  hours  in  Boston, 
and  naturally  panegyrizes.  He  reaches  Haverhill 
with  unutterable  feelings.  "  There  is  no  place  like 
home,"  and  much  more  of  the  same  honest  sort. 

"And  where,  you  will  ask,  are  my  sentimentalisms 
and  love  adventures  ?  Alas,  my  dear  fellow,  these  are 
not  the  days  of  romance.  .  .  .  But  I  can  say  that  I  have 
clasped  more  than  one  fair  hand,  and  read  my  welcome 
in  more  than  one  bright  eye  since  my  arrival." 

Then  he  mentions  his  little  sister,  "  a  girl  of 
fifteen  summers,"  and  sends  a  poem  of  hers  which 
he  has  surreptitiously  obtained.  Here  is  the  first 
stanza :  — 

"AUTUMN   SUNSET. 

"  O,  there  is  beauty  in  the  sky,  —  a  widening  of  gold 
Upon  each  light  and  breezy  cloud,  and  on  each  vapory  fold ! 
The  autumn  wind  has  died  away,  and  the  air  has  not  a  sound, 
Save  the  sighing  of  the  withered  leaves  as  they  fall  upon  the 
ground." 


Writing  for  the  Press.  99 

The  second  letter  is  mainly  political,  and  ex 
hibits  our  Quaker  editor  sparring  with  Gideon 
Wrlles  of  the  "Hartford  Times,"  then  and  since 
a  famous  Democratic  leader.  It  closes  with  a 
legendary  poem.  Succeeding  numbers  of  the  pa 
per  for  three  months  or  more  show  the  work  of 
NVhittier's  hand,  but  his  articles  were  doubtless 
sent  by  mail  from  Haverhill.  The  cause  of  his 
journey  was  evidently  the  failing  health  of  his 
father.  Whittier  remained  at  home,  and  min 
istered  to  his  father's  comfort  with  tender  assi 
duity  to  the  end,  which  came  in  June.  In  July 
he  returned  to  his  duty,  reluctantly  leaving  his 
mother  and  sisters.  In  October  he  made  a  brief 
apology  for  editorial  shortcomings ;  he  had  been 
ill  and  weary.  His  heart  was  drawing  him  home 
wards. 

As  for  his  intellectual  progress,  who  shall  say 
what  was  best  ?  But  so  far  as  we  can  determine 
by  subsequent  results,  we  should  say  he  had  ex 
hausted  the  newspaper  as  a  means  of  discipline, 
especially  in  poetic  art.  The  steady  recurrence 
of  unchanging  and  mechanical  duties  was  never 
favorable  to  the  production  of  poetry,  or  of  the 
higher  qualities  of  prose.  The  fable  of  Pegasus 
in  harness  still  has  its  substantial  lesson ;  not  to 
be  cited,  however,  by  indolent,  conceited  youths, 


ioo  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

for  whom  steady  employment  of  any  sort  is  a 
blessing. 

On  the  2d  of  January,  1832,  Whittier  gave  up 
his  position  on  account  of  his  continued  ill  health. 
He  had  long  been  unequal  to  the  drudgery  in 
separable  from  the  conduct  of  a  paper  managed 
in  the  old  single-handed  way. 

We  have  mentioned  the  variety  and  number  of 
his  contributions,  and  the  general  reputation  he 
had  acquired.  His  sketches  were  so  much  ad 
mired  that  the  publishers  issued  a  small  volume  in 
February,  1831,  entitled  "New  England  Legends 
in  Prose  and  Verse."  Only  a  portion  of  the  con 
tents  had  been  printed  in  the  "  Review."  He  had 
also  edited  the  poems  of  J.  G.  C.  Brainard,  and 
prepared  a  sketch  of  his  life,  and  this  was  pub 
lished  just  about  the  time  of  his  resignation. 

In  leaving  so  many  of  his  early  poems  to  rest  in 
obscurity,  Whittier  was  doubtless  guided  by  sound 
literary  judgment.  They  are  referred  to  as  a  part 
of  the  poet's  history,  and  are  useful,  if  for  no  other 
purpose  than  to  serve  to  mark  the  expansion  of  his 
mind,  and  the  steadily  growing  mastery  over  his 
art.  Several  of  these  neglected  pieces  are  devoted 
to  phases  of  love,  —  a  passion  without  which  poet 
never  existed.  As  time  went  by,  this  feeling  be 
came  less  manifest ;  and  as  the  care  of  the  house- 


Jl /•///////  for  the  Press.  101 

hold  rested  upon  him,  and  as  groat  causes  app(  ;i'  1 
to  him,  demanding  all  his  energies,  i£  lids  liapj/r n«  I 
p -in -rally  that  love  has  been  trciitcil-  i'\v  Whttti^r 
with  less  of  the  intensity  shown  in  the  other  poems 
of  his  mature  years,  although  there  is  one  conspic 
uous  exception  in  "  The  Henchman,"  to  be  referred 
to  later.  It  is  of  the  pure  poetry  of  love  we  are 
sp raking,  —  those  throbbing  lyrics  which  the  whole 
world  remembers  and  sings. 

An  English  writer  has  said,  "  If  Whittier,  who 
is  unmarried,  ever  had  a  love-story,  he  has  not 
sung  about  it  in  the  ears  of  the  world ;  yet  love 
finds  in  him  a  fitting  laureate, —  one  of  the  lof 
tiest,  noblest,  most  ideal  type." 

In  a  certain  sense  the  opinion  above  quoted  is 
most  just.  Whittier  has  written  of  love  in  pure 
and  noble  strains,  showing  the  possession  of  a 
poet's  feeling.  But  a  love-song  in  which  the  poet 
puts  his  own  personality,  and  makes  the  words 
burn  with  the  fire  of  his  own  deathless  passion, 
is  quite  another  thing.  There  are  few  of  such  in 
the  literature  of  any  modern  language,  and  scarcely 
any  in  the  western  world. 

There  is  a  parallel  development  of  intellect  and 
feeling,  mind  and  heart,  that  belongs  to  the  fully 
rounded  character,  and  especially  to  the  ideal  poet. 
This  duality  is  conspicuous  in  Whittier,  and  is 


IO2  John  Cfreenleaf  Whittier. 

the  c-bief  source  of  his  power  over  men.  Perhaps 
a  love-song,  alive  wiih  passion,  is  the  offspring  of 
a  less  Symmetrical  and  self-poised  nature.  The 
feeling  that  should  prompt  it  might  endure,  but 
the  inner  song  would  be  a  Silent  Melody. 

It  may  be  added  that  Whittier  has  always 
shown  a  true  and  manly  reverence  for  woman,  and 
a  chivalric  championship  of  her  cause  whenever  it 
was  needed.  He  has  all  his  life  enjoyed  the  con 
fidence  and  friendship  of  the  best  and  worthiest 
of  the  sex. 

One  word  more  with  regard  to  the  neglected 
and  suppressed  poems,  which  Whittier  now  so 
heartily  and  perhaps  justly  detests.  They  had 
a  wide  circulation,  for  the  standard  of  American 
poetry  at  that  time  was  not  a  high  one.  We  have 
seen  that  at  twenty-two  he  was  becoming  some 
what  famous,  and  we  know  that  his  reputation  up 
to  that  time  rested  almost  entirely  upon  the  poems 
that  he  would  now  never  hear  mentioned. 

We  are  endeavoring  to  study  the  development 
of  a  poet ;  —  a  wonderful  process,  differing  always 
in  different  instances,  and  not  to  be  seen  many 
times  in  the  course  of  a  century.  For  a  poet  is 
not  only  supreme  in  inborn  genius,  but  highest  in 
the  results  of  all  knowledge,  and  in  the  expression 
of  thought  and  feeling  by  words  never  before  so 


Writing  for  the  Press.  103 

grouped  together.  The  poet's  thoughts,  it  is  a 
truism  to  say,  must  be  his  own;  but  it  is  equally 
true  that  their  vesture  must  be  original  and  char 
acteristic.  A  poem  may  contain  pregnant  thought, 
and  be  pervaded,  by  deep  feeling,  and  yet  if  it 
falls  into  customary  ruts  of  expression,  and  is 
adorned  with  epithets  which  custom  has  staled, 
it  cannot  become  classic.  Each  poem  that  lives 
has  its  own  soul  and  body ;  the  poem  that  borrows 
either  has  no  immortality.  And  therefore  it  would 
appear  that,  if  the  vital  power  has  been  given,  and 
the  thinking  has  been  done,  the  matter  that  most 
concerns  the  poet  is  to  create  or  seek  out  forms 
that  are  new  in  design,  color,  and  effect.  We 
know  that  at  first  every  poetic  soul  is  imitative 
as  regards  expression  ;  we  also  know  that  if  it 
does  not  soon  escape  from  the  thraldom  of  imita 
tion,  its  career  will  be  short. 

We  have  to  consider  Whittier  as  a  learner,  and 
we  can  see  that  as  he  went  on  he  made  use  of  each 
opportunity  for  self-culture.  Behind  all  was  the 
resolute,  just,  aspiring,  beauty-loving,  ideal  nature  ; 
there  was  also  the  holy  nurture,  the  ready  sym 
pathy,  and  the  fraternal  spirit  of  a  Christian 
family ;  there  was  the  meagre  outfit  of  a  scholar, 
for  whom  all  the  treasures  of  printed  thought  were 
not  too  much ;  there  was  a  brief  apprenticeship  in 


IO4  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

teaching,  followed  by  labors  (necessary  but  irk 
some)  on  the  tread-mill  of  weekly  newspapers. 
So  far  this  was  the  sum.  Do  we  know,  —  did  he 
himself  know  at  each  juncture  what  was  best  ?  If 
he  did  not,  a  wise  instinct  decided  him. 

Fortunately,  he  did  not  remain  a  schoolmaster ; 
his  abilities  were  never  of  the  vocal  or  didactic 
kind.  He  would  not  have  been  a  Horace  Mann, 
still  less  a  Dr.  Arnold. 

Equally  fortunate  that  he  did  not  remain  for 
life  a  working  editor.  In  a  certain  sense  it  may 
be  said  that  the  lest  writing  is  thrown  away  in 
columns  which  are  important  only  for  an  hour. 
And  whoever  has  toiled  over  sentences  that  are 
to  appear  next  morning  in  print  well  knows,  if  he 
has  the  feeling  of  an  artist,  that  just  at  the  point 
when  he  has  rounded  them  and  adjusted  their 
phrases  to  connect  smoothly,  he  has  utterly  vul 
garized  his  thought.  The  smoothness  means  the 
employment  of  familiar  turns  that  seem  to  be  au 
tomatic  ;  the  antithesis  is  a  mere  specimen  of  see 
saw  ;  the  phrases  that  fit  so  accurately  are  those 
which  have  been  used  by  the  "  able  editor "  for 
generations.  If  the  writer  has  an  artist's  feeling, 
when  he  finds  his  sentences  going  without  jolt, 
he  will  know  that  what  he  has  done,  though  it  may 
serve  a  present  purpose,  is  wholly  ephemeral,  be- 


Writing  for  the  Press.  105 

cause  conventional.  If  he  would  have  it  live  he 
must  go  back  ;  disrupt  the  glib  connections  ;  smite 
the  specious  epithets  ;  banish  the.  smug  adject! NTS  ; 
and  try  to  put  his  thought  in  proper  clothing,  by 
studying  the  primal  meanings  as  well  as  customary 
associations  of  words,  and  so  gain  a  sincere,  strong, 
and  fresh  expression. 

Therefore  it  seems  that  Whittier  had  had  enough 
practice  of  this  perfunctory  nature,  and  was  in  the 
true  path  to  higher  development  when  he  returned 
to  the  farm.  It  is  true  we  shall  see  him  an  editor 
again,  but  only  at  the  call  of  duty,  —  a  call  he 
never  disregarded. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SEEING  SERVICE. 

The  Anti-slavery  Movement  begun.  —  Garrison  establishes  the 
"Liberator."  —  His  Career  in  Boston.  —  Persecution  of  Abo 
litionists.  —  Whittier's  Great  Essay.  —  He  attends  the  National 
Anti-slavery  Meeting  at  Philadelphia.  —  Mobs  in  Haverhill, 
Concord  (N.  H.),  and  Boston.  —  Escape  of  Whittier  and  George 
Thompson.  —  Anti-slavery  Lyrics. 

TTTE  find  Whittier  at  home  during  the  year 
1832,  and  we  know  he  was  busy,  as  he 
always  was.  His  principal  literary  work  at  this 
time  was  done  for  Buckingham's  "New  England 
Magazine,"  of  Boston.  It  appears  best,  however, 
now  to  give  some  account  of  his  anti-slavery  labors, 
deferring  mention  of  his  contributions  to  magazines 
and  reviews  until  such  time  as  they  can  be  con 
sidered  together.  For  Whittier's  life  and  labors 
have  been  devoted  chiefly  to  the  cause  of  freedom 
and  the  brotherhood  of  man.  The  great  events  in 
which  he  has  been  interested  will  year  by  year  rise 
in  importance,  while  the  prejudiced  and  inhuman 


Seeing  Service.  107 

utterances  of  all  Carlyles  will  be  forgotten,  or  will 
be  remembered  in  pity  or  in  scorn.1 

The  indefatigable  Garrison  had  established  still 
another  newspaper  devoted  to  philanthropic  sub 
jects,  this  time  at  Brattleborough,  Vt.  Slavery, 
war,  and  intemperance  wore  the  three  great  evils 
to  be  attacked.  The  good  wishes  of  Whittier  fol 
lowed  his  friend,  sent  him  in  a  warm  and  prophetic 
letter.  But  within  a  short  time  the  great  agitator 
was  convinced  that  a  village  in  Vermont  was  not 
the  place  in  which  to  exert  his  powers  to  the  best 
advantage  upon  the  nation  at  large,  —  being  (dy 
namically)  too  far  from  the  %  centres  of  resistance, 
and  (otherwise)  too  far  from  the  centre  of  gravity 
which  some  people  think  can  only  be  Boston.  He 
had  made  an  attempt  in  Baltimore,  where  he  was 
imprisoned  on  account  of  his  inability  to  pay  fifty 
dollars  damages  and  costs,  awarded  against  him  at 

1  Carlyle,  a  defender  of  the  divine  right  of  Might,  said  :  "  Essen 
tially  the  Nigger  Question  was  one  of  the  smallest  ;  and  in  itself 
did  not  much  concern  mankind  in  a  time  of  struggles  and  hurries. 
.  .  .  The  Almighty  Maker  has  appointed  him  [the  Nigger]  to  be  a 
servant,"  (Essays,  voL  vii.,  —  "Shooting  Niagara  :  and  After  ?  ") 
—  and  much  more  of  the  same  blasphemous  sort.  One  could 
believe  that  the  sense  of  justice  was  dead  in  this  man.  In  reading 
his  open  and  shocking  contempt  for  principles  which  are  the  basis  of 
Christianity  no  less  than  of  free  government,  we  wonder  how  liberty- 
loving  and  religious  Scotland  could  have  nurtured  him.  The 
American  abolitionists  were  as  far  above  him  in  moral  elevation 
as  he  was  above  the  Quashee  whom  he  ridicules. 


io8  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

the  suit  of  a  Massachusetts  shipmaster  for  a  libel 
in  calling  him  a  pirate;  the  fact  being  that  the 
vessel  had  carried  a  cargo  of  slaves.  While  he 
was  in  prison,  Whittier  made  an  appeal  by  letter 
to  Henry  Clay  to  furnish  the  needed  sum ;  and 
Clay  stated  subsequently  that  he  was  about  to  com 
ply,  when  he  found  that  Garrison  was  already  at 
liberty,  the  money  having  been  paid  by  Arthur 
Tappan.  After  "  prospecting "  in  different  parts 
of  the  country,  notably  in  Washington,  he  finally 
decided,  and  in  1831,  having  burned  his  ships,  — 
the  few  he  had,  —  he  issued  the  first  number  of 
the  "  Liberator."  H^s  only  associate  was  Isaac 
Knapp,  a  fellow-townsman  from  Newburyport. 
They,  with  the  aid  of  a  negro  boy,  did  the  whole 
work,  the  editor  using  the  composing-stick  and 
the  pen  with  equal  mastery.  The  central  doc 
trine  announced  was  a  simple  statement,  —  a  tru 
ism  now,  but  full  of  tragic  menaces  and  terror 
then :  "  Unconditional  emancipation  is  the  imme 
diate  duty  of  the  master  and  the  immediate  right 
of  the  slave."  For  this  the  editor  proclaimed,  "  I 
will  be  as  harsh  as  truth,  and  as  uncompromising 
as  justice.  I  am  in  earnest ;  I  will  not  equivocate  ; 
I  will  not  excuse ;  I  will  not  retreat  a  single  inch ; 
and  I  WILL  BE  HEARD."  'He  stood  like  Luther  when 
he  had  nailed  his  theses  to  the  church  door  in 


Seeing  Service.  109 

Wittenberg.  From  the  sublime  courage  of  the  one 
act  came  Protestantism  and  whatever  it  has  done 
or  may  do  for  mankind ;  from  the  no  less  lofty 
spirit  of  the  other  came  the  final  lil>e  ration  of  four 
millions  of  slaves.  So  Garrison  began  his  career  in 
the  city  which  derided,  vilified,  and  mobbed  him, — 
whose  preachers,  lawyers,  and  civic  officers  vied  in 
defaming  him,  and  rendering,  as  far  as  men  could, 
his  life  miserable,  —  but  which  at  length  accepted 
irratefully  the  grand  result  of  the  toils  and  suffer 
ings  of  himself,  his  friends  and  disciples,  and  of 
the  agencies  he  put  in  motion,  and  which  now 
holds  him  in  honor  among  the  noblest  of  her 
sons. 

The  influence  of  Garrison  was  to  bear  still  more 
strongly  upon  Whittier,  respecting  his  place  and 
his  share  in  the  world's  work.  The  farmer's  boy 
had  become  a  man  with  high  ideals  and  a  resolute 
will.  Literary  renown,  with  the  prospect  of  ease 
and  leisure,  the  companionship  of  writers  and 
scholars,  and  the  approval  of  the  cultivated  and 
refined  classes  were  on  one  side ;  and  these  tempt 
ing  advantages  were  not  on  the  side  of  Garrison, 
working  in  his  "  obscure  hole,"  with  a  negro  assist 
ant  ;  fame  and  profit  were  to  be  sought,  if  any 
where,  among  quietists  and  conservatives.  Hut 
Whittier  had  been  trained  in  a  school  wherein  (iu«l 


no  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

and  duty  are  the  moving  influences.  After  his 
return  from  Hartford,  in  the  seclusion  of  his  home, 
he  meditated  long  upon  the  question  of  slavery, 
and  its  incompatibility  with  Christian  doctrine  and 
free  institutions.  Having  mastered  the  facts  in  its 
history,  and  having  studied  its  relations  to  social 
life,  political  economy,  public  morals,  democracy, 
and  the  church,  he  wrote  an  elaborate  pamphlet, 
consisting  of  twenty-three  pages  octavo  in  small 
type,  entitled  "Justice  and  Expediency;  or,  Slavery 
considered  with  a  view  to  its  Rightful  and  Effectual 
Remedy,  Abolition."  On  the  titlepage,  under  his 
name  as  author,  is  the  well-known  fiery  sentence 
from  a  speech  of  Lord  Brougham  respecting  "  the 
wild  and  guilty  fantasy  that  man  can  hold  property 
in  man"  This  was  printed  at  Haverhill,  in  1833, 
and  the  expense  was  wholly  borne  by  the  author  at 
a  time  when  the  edition  must  have  cost  him  a  con 
siderable  part  of  his  yearly  earnings. 

This  able  and  well-reasoned  treatise  touches  upon 
every  point  then  in  controversy,  and  is  fortified 
with  abundant  references  to  documents  and  statis 
tics.  It  disposes  of  the  plans  of  "  amelioration " 
as  by  a  re-establishment  of  manorial  villanage,  and 
the  like.  The  hypocrisy  of  the  promoters  of  coloni 
zation  and  the  futility  of  the  scheme  itself  are 
shown  with  unanswerable  force  and  unsparing 


Seeing  Service.  1 1 1 

logic.  It  proves  the  superior  productiveness  of 
free  labor,  and  argues  from  experience  elsewhere 
that  the  dangers  of  emancipation  arc  only  imagi 
nary.  It  is  especially  strong  on  moral  and  religious 
grounds,  and  its  startling  quotations  from  Scrip- 
tuiv,  with  which  Whit  tier's  home  schooling  had 
made  him  so  familiar,  hold  the  mind  of  the  reader 
with  a  vise-like  grip.  It  is  not  the  least  discredit 
to  the  great  leader,  Garrison,  to  say  that  though 
in  the  "  Liberator "  he  touched  every  note  of  the 
theme,  first  and  last,  yet  no  single  effort  of  his 
appears  now  to  be  so  full,  so  thoroughly  stated, 
reasoned,  and  enforced  as  this.  It  covers  the 
ground  completely,  and  its  positions  were  never 
met  in  argument,  —  only  by  evasions,  misstate- 
ments,  or  more  commonly  by  abuse  or  personal 
violence.  This  is  the  concluding  paragraph  :  — 

"  And  when  the  stain  on  our  own  escutcheon  shall  be 
seen  no  more  ;  when  the  Declaration  of  Independence  and 
the  practice  of  our  people  shall  agree  ;  when  Truth  shall 
be  exalted  among  us  ;  when  Love  shall  take  the  plur»> 
of  Wrong;  when  all  the  baneful  pride  and  prejudice  of 
caste  and  color  shall  fall  forever  ;  when  under  one  com 
mon  sun  of  political  Liberty  the  slaveholding  portions  of 
our  Republic  shall  no  longer  sit  like  Egyptians  of  old, 
themselves  mantled  in  thick  darkness  while  all  around 
them  is  glowing  with  the  blessed  light  of  freedom  ami 
equality.  — then,  and  not  till  then,  shall  it  GO  WELL  FOR 
AMBBICA." 


1 1 2  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

The  concluding  words  have  reference  to  a  sen 
tence  written  by  William  Penn  :  "  Let  us  not  be 
take  us  to  the  common  arts  and  stratagems  of 
nations  ;  let  us  ...  trust  not  in  man,  but  in  the 
living  God  ;  and  it  shall  go  well  for  England" 

Whittier,  as  stated,  bore  the  burden  of  this  issue ; 
but  not  long  after  an  edition  of  10,000  was  printed 
for  gratuitous  distribution  by  Lewis  Tappan  of 
New  York. 

In  July,  1833,  Whittier  addressed  a  letter  to  the 
Providence  (R.  I.)  "  Journal "  which  occupies  five 
closely  printed  columns  of  that  paper.  It  is  not 
identical  with  the  pamphlet,  but  it  covers  much  of 
the  same  ground,  and  is  more  condensed  and  in  some 
respects  more  effective.  In  the  same  year  he  wrote 
an  elaborate  letter  upon  the  same  topic  in  the 
"  Essex  Transcript."  Upon  no  subject  since  the 
formation  of  our  government  has  there  been  ex 
pended  so  much  labor,  ability,  and  eloquence  as 
upon  the  question  of  slavery. 

Upon  the  return  of  Garrison  from  England,  in 
1833,  it  was  determined  to  hold  a  National  Anti- 
slavery  Convention  at  Philadelphia,  December  4th, 
5th,  and  6th.  Whittier  was  a  delegate  and  one  of 
the  secretaries,  and  signed  the  memorable  Declara 
tion  of  Sentiments.  He  has  now  in  his  house  a 
copy  of  this  Declaration,  framed  with  wood  from 


Seeing  Service.  1 1 3 

the  timber  of  Pennsylvania  Hall,  an  edifice  de 
stroyed  a  few  years  later  by  a  pro-slavery  mob. 

We  are  unable  to  follow  Whittier  in  all  his  ef 
forts ;  his  pen  was  never  idle,  and  his  energy  in 
the  cause  was  never  relaxed.  He  wrote  for  news- 
papers  whenever  there  was  opportunity,  and  most 
of  his  poems  at  this  period  were  in  fact,  if  not  in 
name,  "  Voices  of  Freedom." 

He  was  elected  a  member  of  the  State  legisla 
ture  for  the  year  1835,  the  only  public  office  he 
ever  held,  except  that  of  presidential  elector.  He 
had  never  the  gifts  of  an  orator,  as  he  was  lack 
ing  in  confidence,  and  averse  to  display  ;  but  he 
was  an  able,  well-informed,  and  useful  legislator. 

As  we  look  back  upon  the  history  of  that  time, 
we  are  struck  by  the  accounts  of  outrages  continu 
ally  perpetrated  by  the  opponents  of  the  anti-slavery 
cause.  An  abolitionist  was  not  only  "  fanatic 
named  and  fool,"  but  was  pelted  by  way  of  rejoinder 
to  his  argument.  The  criminal  statutes  were  ran 
sacked  to  find  precedents  for  his  being  laid  by  the 
heels.  Grand  juries  were  urged  to  indict  him. 
The  sworn  conservators  of  the  peace  found  the  care 
of  him  a  trouble ;  for  he  was  outside  the  pale  of 
humanity,  and  there  was  then  no  society  for  the 
prevention  of  cruelty  to  animals.  Governors  of 
States  founded  in  despotism  offered  rewards  for  his 

8 


H4  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

head.  His  appearance  on  the  platform  was  the 
signal  for  horse-play  and  brutal  insult.  Not  one  of 
the  twelve  Apostles  had  been  more  sure  of  provok 
ing  riots.  And  these  disturbances  were  not  solely 
in  large  cities  nor  among  "  lewd  fellows  of  the  baser 
sort."  The  spirit  was  manifested  with  equal  viru 
lence  in  such  towns  as  Salem,  Haverhill,  and  Con 
cord,  and  seemed  to  have  the  approval  of  the 
wealthy,  learned,  and  fashionable  classes. 

An  anti-slavery  society  was  established  in  Haver- 
hill,  April  3,  1834,  of  which  Whittier  was  corre 
sponding  secretary.  There  was  strong  opposition, 
and  in  due  course  of  time  the  usual  result,  namely, 
a  mob.  In  August,  1835,  the  Rev.  Samuel  J.  May, 
having  preached  on  a  Sunday  morning,  proposed  to 
deliver  an  anti-slavery  lecture  in  the  evening. 

"  The  evening  meeting  was  entirely  broken  up  by  a 
mob  outside,  who  threw  sand  and  gravel  and  small  stones 
against  the  windows,  breaking  the  glass,  and  by  their  hoot- 
ings  frightened  the  female  portion  of  the  audience,  and 
led  to  the  fear  on  the  part  of  all  that  more  serious  assaults 
would  follow  if  the  meeting  was  continued.  It  was  there 
fore  summarily  dissolved.  It  was  perhaps  fortunate  that 
this  course  was  adopted,  as  a  loaded  cannon  was  then 
being  drawn  to  the  spot  to  add  its  thunderings  to  the 
already  disgraceful  tumults  of  that  otherwise  quiet  Sab 
bath  evening."  1 

1  Chase's  History  of  Haverhill,  p.  505. 


Seeing  Service.  115 

Elizabeth  Whittier,  the  poet's  youngest  sister,  and 
another  youuir  lady,  Harriet  Minot,  grasped  the 
hands  of  May,  and,  pushing  their  way  through  the 
crowd  of  their  misguided  townsmen,  escaped  with 
out  injury,  except  that  they  were  rudely  hustled. 

Some  time  before  this,  George  Thompson,  M.  P., 
having  been  invited  by  Garrison,  came  to  this 
country  to  address  the  public  upon  the  great  ques 
tion  of  the  day.  He  had  been  the  leading  advocate 
of  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the  British  colonies, 
and  was  renowned  as  an  orator.  But  the  immiti 
gable  hate  felt  towards  an  abolitionist  was  intensi 
fied  in  his  case  by  a  fierce  and  unreasoning  resent 
ment  against  interference  in  a  domestic  question  on 
the  part  of  a  foreigner.  Thompson,  it  was  said, 
was  a  minion  of  the  English  cabinet ;  England  was 
our  old  enemy  and  our  detested  rival  in  commerce ; 
and  Thompson  had  come  over  to  foster  dissension 
between  North  and  South,  and  so  destroy  our  great 
and  glorious  Union.  Many  people  doubtless  sin 
cerely  believed  this.  But  the  abolitionists,  who, 
with  Garrison,  considered  the  world  to  be  their 
country,  and  all  mankind  their  countrymen,  wel 
comed  the  generous  aid  from  one  of  the  first  of 
orators  and  most  disinterested  of  men. 

Whittier  was  not  present  at  the  meeting  in  his 
native  town  so  summarily  broken  up.  He  was 


1 1 6  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

absent  at  the  time  in  the  State  of  New  Hampshire, 
where  he  had  the  honor  of  a  mob  got  up  partly  on 
his  own  account. 

George  Thompson,  who  could  say  with  Paul  that 
he  was  "  in  perils  oft,"  had  narrowly  escaped  from 
a  mob  in  Salem,  and  was  secreted  by  Whittier 
in  East  Haverhill  for  two  weeks.  Thinking  them 
selves  secure  because  personally  unknown,  the  two 
friends  drove  to  Plymouth,  N.  H.,  to  visit  Na 
thaniel  P.  Rogers,  a  prominent  abolitionist.  On 
their  way  they  stopped  for  the  night  in  Concord  at 
the  house  of  George  Kent,  who  was  a  brother-in- 
law  of  Rogers.  After  they  had  gone  on  their  way, 
Kent  attempted  to  make  preparations  for  an  anti- 
slavery  meeting  to  be  held  when  they  should 
return.  There  was  a  furious  excitement,  and 
neither  church,  chapel,  nor  hall  could  be  hired  for 
the  purpose.  On  their  arrival  Whittier  walked  out 
with  a  friend  in  the  twilight,  leaving  Thompson 
in  the  house,  and  soon  found  himself  and  friend 
surrounded  by  a  mob  of  several  hundred  persons, 
who  assailed  them  with  stones  and  bruised  them 
somewhat  severely.  They  took  refuge  in  the 
house  of  Colonel  Kent,  who,  though  not  an  aboli 
tionist,  protected  them  and  baffled  the  mob.  From 
thence  Whittier  made  his  way  with  some  difficulty 
to  George  Kent's,  where  Thompson  was.  The  mob 


Seeing  Service.  1 1 7 

soon  surrounded  the  house  and  demanded  that 
Thompson  and  "  the  Quaker"  should  be  given  up. 
Through  a  clever  stratagem  the  mob  was  decoyed 
n  way  for  a  while,  but,  soon  discovering  the  trick, 
it  returned,  reinforced  with  muskets  and  a  cannon, 
and  threat • 'IK -(I  to  blow  up  the  house  if  the  aboli 
tionists  were  not  surrendered. 

A  small  company  of  anti-slavery  men  and  women 
had  met  that  evening  at  George  Kent's,  among 
whom  were  two  nieces  of  Daniel  Webster,  daugh 
ters  of  his  brother  Ezekiel.  All  agreed  that  the 
lives  of  Whittier  and  Thompson  were  in  danger, 
and  advised  that  an  effort  should  be  made  to 
escape.  The  mob  filled  the  street,  a  short  distance 
below  the  gate  leading  to  Kent's  house.  A  horse 
was  quietly  harnessed  in  the  stable,  and  was  led 
out  with  the  vehicle  under  the  shadow  of  the 
house,  where  Whittier  and  Thompson  stood  ready. 
It  was  «bright  moonlight,  and  they  could  see  the 
gun-barrels  gleaming  in  the  street  below  them. 
The  gate  was  suddenly  opened,  the  horse  was 
started  at  a  furious  gallop,  and  the  two  friends 
drove  off  amidst  the  yells  and  shots  of  the  infuri 
ated  crowd.  They  left  the  city  by  way  of  Hookset 
Bridge,  the  other  avenues  being  guarded,  and  hur 
ried  in  the  direction  of  Haverhill.  In  the  morning 
they  stopped  to  refresh  themselves  and  their  tired 


1 1 8  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

horse.  While  at  breakfast  they  found  that  "  ill 
news  travels  fast,"  and  gets  worse  as  it  goes ;  for 
the  landlord  told  them  that  there  had  been  an 
abolition  meeting  at  Haverhill  the  night  before, 
and  that  George  Thompson,  the  Englishman,  and 
a  young  Quaker  named  Whittier,  who  had  brought 
him,  were  both  so  roughly  handled  that  they  would 
never  wish  to  talk  abolition  again.  When  the 
guests  were  about  to  leave,  Whittier,  just  as  he 
was  stepping  into  the  carriage,  said  to  the  land 
lord,  "  My  name  is  Whittier,  and  this  is  George 
Thompson."  The  man  opened  his  eyes  and  mouth 
with  wonder  as  they  drove  away. 

When  they  arrived  at  Hfaverhill  they  learned 
of  the  doings  of  the  mob  there,  and  the  fortunate 
escape  of  their  friend  May.1 

The  attempt  to  mob  Thompson  in  Boston  is 
vividly  described  by  Lydia  Maria  Child.2 

"  My  most  vivid  recollection  of  George  Thompson  is 
of  his  speaking  at  Julian  Hall 3  on  a  memorable  occasion. 
Mr.  Stetson,  then  keeper  of  the  Tremont  House,  was 
present,  with  a  large  number  of  his  slaveholding  guests, 
who  had  come  to  Boston  to  make  their  annual  purchases 
of  the  merchants.  Their  presence  seemed  to  inspire 

1  From  a  letter  written  by  Mrs.  Cartland. 

2  Letters,  p.  248  et  seq. 

8  Julian  Hall  was  on  the  corner  of  Milk  and  Congress  Streets, 
Boston. 


Seeing  Service.  \  1 9 

Mr.  Thompson.  Never,  even  from  his  eloquent  lips, 
did  I  hear  su«-h  s<-;i tiling  denunciations  of  slavery.  The 
exasperated  Southerners  could  not  contain  their  \vruth. 
Their  lips  were  tightly  compressed,  their  hands  clenched; 
and  now  and  then  a  muttered  curse  was  audible.  Finally, 
one  of  them  shouted,  'If  we  had  you  down  South,  we'd 
cut  off  your  ears.'  Mr.  Thompson  folded  his  arms  in  his 
characteristic  manner,  looked  calmly  at  the  speaker,  and 
replied,  '  Well,  sir,  if  you  did  cut  off  my  ears,  I  should 
still  cry  aloud,  "  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him 
hear."  ' 

"Meanwhile  my  heart  was  thumping  like  a  sledge 
hammer  ;  for,  before  the  speaking  began,  Samuel  J.  May 
had  come  to  me  and  said  in  a  v< TV  low  tone,  'Do  you 
see  how  the  walls  are  lined  by  stout  truckmen,  bran- 
dishing  their  whips?  They  are  part  of  a  large  mob 
around  the  entrance  in  Federal  Street,  employed  by  the 
Southerners  to  seize  George  Thompson  and  carry  him  to 
a  South  Carolina  vessel  in  waiting  at  Long  Wharf.  A 
carriage  with  swift  horses  is  at  the  door,  and  these  South 
erners  are  now  exulting  in  the  anticipation  of  lynching 
him.  But  behind  that  large  green  curtain  at  the  back 
of  the  platform  there  is  a  door  leading  to  the  chamber 
of  a  warehouse.  We  have  the  key  to  that  door,  which 
leads  to  a  rear  entrance  of  the  building  on  Milk  Street. 
There  the  abolitionists  have  stationed  a  carriage  with 
swit't  horses  and  a  colored  driver,  who  of  course  will 
do  his  best  for  George  Thompson.  Now,  as  soon  as 
Mr.  Thompson  ceases  speaking,  we  want  the  anti-slavery 
women  to  gather  round  him  and  appear  to  detain  him 
in  eager  conversation.  He  will  listen  and  reply,  but 


I2O  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

keep  imperceptibly  moving  backward  toward  the  green 
curtain.  You  will  all  follow  him,  and  when  he  vanishes 
behind  the  curtain  you  will  continue  to  stand  close  to 
gether,  and  appear  to  be  still  talking  with  him.' 

"  At  the  close  of  the  meeting  twenty-five  or  thirty  of 
us  women  clustered  around  Mr.  Thompson  and  obeyed  the 
instructions  we  had  received.  When  he  had  disappeared 
from  our  midst  there  was  quiet  for  two  or  three  minutes,  in 
terrupted  only  by  our  busy  talking.  But  the  Southerners 
soon  began  to  stand  on  tiptoe  and  survey  the  platform 
anxiously.  Soon  a  loud  oath  was  heard,  accompanied  by 
the  exclamation,  *  He  's  gone !  '  Then  such  a  thundering 
stampede  as  there  was  down  the  front  stairs  I  have  never 
heard.  We  remained  in  the  hall,  and  presently  Samuel 
J.  May  came  to  us,  so  agitated  that  he  was  pale  to  the 
very  lips.  '  Thank  God,  he  is  saved ! '  he  exclaimed  ;  and 
we  wrung  his  hand  with  hearts  too  full  for  speech. 

"The  Boston  newspaper  press,  as  usual,  presented  a 
united  front  in  sympathy  with  the  slaveholders.  .  .  .  But 
they  were  all  in  the  dark  concerning  the  manner  of  his 
escape ;  for  as  the  door  behind  the  curtain  was  known  to 
very  few,  it  remained  a  mystery  to  all  except  the  aboli 
tionists." 

Not  long  after  these  events  Whittier  went  to 
Boston  to  attend  an  extra  session  of  the  legislature 
called  for  the  purpose  of  revising  the  laws  of  the 
Commonwealth.  He  had  been  a  frequent  visitor  at 
the  office  of  the  "  Liberator,"  and  the  early  friends 
of  the  editor  still  love  to  recall "  his  flashing  eyes 


Seeing  Service.  121 

and  intrepid  mien,"  and  to  acknowledge  his  services 
and  devotion  to  the  cause.  He  witnessed  the  doings 
of  the  mob  on  Washington  Street,  for  his  sister  was 
in  attendance  upon  that  meeting  of  the  Female  Anti- 
slavory  Society,  and,  hearing  of  the  disturbance, 
he  had  hastened  to  the  spot,  and  ascertained  that 
the  women  had  escaped.  He  saw  Garrison  in  the 
clutches  of  the  mob,  with  a  rope  around  his  neck, 
and  saw  his  rescue  by  the  police  and  their  hurried 
drive,  followed  by  the  howling  mob,  to  Leverett 
Street  jail,  whither  they  took  him  for  safety.  He 
and  the  Rev.  Samuel  J.  May  went  to  the  jail,  and 
conversed  with  Garrison  in  his  cell.  That  day, 
having  been  warned  that  the  house  at  which  they 
were  stopping  might  be  attacked  by  the  mob,  Whit- 
tier  managed  to  remove  his  sister  to  a  place  of 
safety  without  her  being  aware  of  the  danger,  while 
he  and  May  watched  during  the  night. 

The  Boston  mob,  led  by  "  men  of  property  and 
standing,"  has  been  frequently  described.  It  was  an 
outbreak  with  far-reaching  consequences,  and,  with 
the  exception  of  the  Boston  Massacre  of  1770,  will 
be  considered  the  most  important  event  in  the  his 
tory  of  the  city.  It  furnishes  a  striking  view  of  the 
relations  between  morals  and  majorities,  and  shows 
that  the  voice  of  the  people  is  not  yet  the  voice 
of  God.  As  it  happened,  Garrison  was  the  victim 


1 2  2  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

of  this  infamous  outrage,  but  the  person  aimed  at 
was  George  Thompson.  It  was  against  him  mainly 
that  the  inflammatory  articles  in  the  newspapers, 
and  the  seditious  handbills  and  placards  throughout 
the  city,  were  directed.  For  the  leading  men  had 
said  that  Thompson,  the  foreign  interloper,  should 
not  be  allowed  to  speak.  It  is  well  known  that  he 
was  not  announced,  and  was  not  present  at  the  little 
meeting  of  women  which  the  mayor  courageously 
ordered  to  disperse ;  a.nd  after  the  triumph  of  the 
mob  he  withdrew  from  the  city. 

There  is  an  interesting  reminiscence  of  this  period 
of  Whittier's  life  in  the  form  of  a  small  volume 
entitled  "  Poems  written  during  the  Progress  of 
the  Abolition  Question  in  the  United  States,  be 
tween  the  years  1830  and  1838,  by  John  G.  Whit- 
tier."  It  bears  the  imprint  of  Isaac  Knapp,  the 
publisher  of  the  "  Liberator,"  and  is  dated  1837. 
The  introductory  remarks  are  evidently  by  Garri 
son.  This  is  a  characteristic  paragraph  :  — 

"  Those  who  have  read  '  Mogg  Megone '  will   see   in 
them  the  same  easy  strength   of  versification,   the  same 
thrilling  correspondence  of  sound  to  sense,  the  same  elec 
trifying  estro  l  joined  to  high  and  powerful  conceptions  • 
of  moral  beauty  and  sublimity,  which  have  become  thus 
strong  and  exalted  because   (in  Emerson's  phrase)    the 
writer  *  lives  as  a  life  what  he  apprehends  as  a  truth.' " 
1  Poetic  fire  or  genius. 


Seeing  Sere  123 

There  is  a  iviVn-nce  to  Korner,  "  of*  the  lyre 
and  sword,"  —  not  so  inapt,  for  Whittier  has  been 
a  very  aggressive  patriot  — for  a  Quaker.  The 
contents  of  this  little  volume  are  all  in  the  col 
lected  edition,  excepting  a  notable  poem  addressed 
to  Governor  McHunie.  The  impression  made  by 
this  brilliant  satire  (read  forty  years  ago)  is  not 
faded  to-day.  This  surely  should  be  replaced  among 
the  acknowledged  poems. 

A  few  stanzas  are  quoted.  Governor  McDuffie 
had  used  the  phrase,  "  The  patriarchal  institution 
of  Slavery." 

••  King  of  Carolina,  hail ! 

La>t  champion  of  Oppression's  battle  ; 
Lord  of  rice-tierce  and  cotton-bale, 

Of  sugar-box  and  human  cattle. 
Around  thy  temples,  green  and  dark, 

I  liy  own  tobacco  wreath  reposes,  — 
Thyself  a  brother  Patriarch 

Of  Isaac,  Abraham,  and  Moses  1 


"  Ho,  fishermen  of  Marblehead  !  — 

Ho,  Lynn  cordwainers,  leave  your  leather, 
And  wear  tin-  yoke  in  kindness  made, 

Ami  dank  your  needful  chains  together  ! 
Let  Low.-ll  mills  their  thousands  yield, 

Down  let  the  rough  Vermonter  hasten, 
Down  from  the  work>hoj>  and  the  field, 

And  thank  us  for  each  chain  we  fasten. 


124  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  SLAVES  in  the  rugged  Yankee  land  ? 

I  tell  thee,  Carolinian,  never  1 
Our  rocky  hills  and  iron  strand 

Are  free,  and  shall  be  free  forever. 
The  surf  shall  wear  that  strand  away, 

Our  granite  hills  in  dust  shall  raoulde 
Ere  Slavery's  hateful  yoke  shall  lay, 

Unbroken,  on  a  Yankee's  shoulder." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

POLITICAL  MOVEMENT   AGAINST  SLAVERY. 

Garrison  assails  the  Church  for  its  Conservatism  and  Silence.  — 
He  deprecates  Political  Action.  —  A  Division  takes  Place.  — 
Whittier  sides  with  the  Workers  in  Politics.  —  The  "  Emanci 
pator."  —  "  Reminiscences  "  of  Samuel  J.  May. 

r  I  ^HERE  has  been  dissension  in  every  camp, 
under  every  leader  from  Achilles  to  Grant. 
In  voluntary  associations  formed  for  the  advance 
ment  of  moral  causes,  differences  of  opinion  and 
divisions  in  action  are  inevitable.  When  Garrison 
found  the  church  indifferent  to  the  claims  of  human 
brotherhood,  and  willing  to  temporize  with  a  gigan 
tic  crime  rather  than  hazard  the  unity  of  General 
Councils,  he  turned  upon  the  clergy  with  the  bold 
est  invective,  tipping  his  phrases  with  flinty  points 
from  their  own  scriptural  armory.  Then  he  was 
thought  to  be  "  going  too  far ; "  and  before  long  in 
many  minds  the  abolitionist  and  the  infidel  were 
joined  in  equal  reprobation.  As  he  persisted  in 
plain  speech  to  the  "  dumb  dogs  "  in  charge  of  the 


126  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

spiritual  flocks,  some  of  his  followers  seceded. 
It  was  in  vain  that  he  protested  he  was  not  ham 
mering  at  Christianity,  but  at  the  organizations 
which  were  denying  the  spirit  of  Christ  in  consent 
ing  to  the  bondage  of  those  for  whom  Christ  died. 
The  conservative  clergy  made  strong  points  against 
him,  however,  as  being  a  man  who  was  willing  to 
destroy  what  he  could  not  hastily  reform.  They 
likened  him  to  a  man  who  would  burn  his  house  to 
be  rid  of  a  wasp's  nest.  His  work  was  undoubtedly 
hindered  by  this  and  other  complications,  and  the 
number  of  his  open  followers  did  not  greatly  in 
crease.  At  the  meetings  of  the  anti-slavery  socie 
ties  the  same  familiar  faces  were  seen  from  year 
to  year.  The  avowed  friends  of  the  slave  were 
known,  almost  as  a  distinct  sect  is  known,  and 
were  separated  from  the  religious  bodies  which 
form  "  the  Church  "  by  more  rigid  lines  than  were 
ever  drawn  against  Christian  men,  except  in  the 
case  of  the  early  Quakers.  But  treatment  of  this 
kind,  whether  called  persecution  or  isolation,  did 
not  trouble  Whittier.  He  was  naturally  and  by 
inheritance  a  come-outer.  His  poems  entitled 
"  Clerical  Oppressors,"  "  The  Pastoral  Letter,"  and 
"  A  Sabbath  Scene,"  show  that,  so  far  from  being 
intimidated  by  the  action  of  the  church  and  the 
clergy,  he  was  ready  to  use  his  great  powers  in 


Political  Movnnnd  agnitist  tilawry.      127 

sharp  aggressive  warfare:  and  if  we  ever  pity 
irrave  and  well-meaning  men  in  false  and  ridiculous 
positions,  we  might  actually  feel  some  compunc 
tion  as  we  read  the  tcrrihle  though  deserved  sar 
casms  in  those  glowing  lines.  The  pillory  would 
have  been  merciful  in  comparison  ;  and  there  was 
none  to  reply:  the  poets  were  all  inspired  hy  the 
same  feelings;  there  was  no  orthodox  prophet  to 
he  led  forth  against  the  Aholition-Israel. 

Though  the  number  of  professing  abolitionists 
was  small,  their  influence  was  pervasive.  Before 
long,  men  of  practical  experience  in  politics  began 
to  say,  Why  agitate  forever?  Why  not  make  a 
beginning,  vote  as  we  believe,  and  let  ideas  crys- 
talli/e  in  laws?  Garrison  opposed  this  view,  on 
the  ground  that  a  moral  cause  could  not  be  car 
ried  on  to  success  without  ignoble  means.  He  was 
for  the  diffusion  of  light  and  truth  through  all 
educational,  moral,  and  religious  agencies,  and  he 
hoped  the  desired  result  would  be  brought  ahout 
through  the  action  of  conscientious  men  in  both  of 
the  old  parties.  A  small  but  faithful  band  adhered 
to  him  in  this  course,  but  the  anti-slavery  senti 
ment  of  the  North,  especially  in  Massachusetts,  was 
generally  in  favor  of  political  action.  Those  who 
thought  they  should  sustain  their  religious  convic 
tions  and  church  polity  in  harmony  with  their  anti- 


128  John  Greenkaf  Whittier. 

slavery  doctrines  and  with  political  action  were 
supporters  of  the  "Emancipator,"1  a  newspaper 
conducted  with  eminent  ability  by  Joshua  Leavitt. 

There  is  not  space  in  a  volume  like  this  to  notice 
the  various  attempts  at  combining  voters  for  the 
cause ;  it  is  sufficient  to  mention  succinctly  the 
leading  incidents. 

In  1840  there  was  a  Liberty  party  convention  at 
Albany,  N.  Y.,  at  which  James  G.  Birney  was 
nominated  for  President.  In  1844  Birney  was 
again  nominated,  and  received  over  60,000  votes. 
In  1846  there  was  a  vehement  discussion  upon 
a  question  of  national  importance,  known  as  the 
Wilmot  Proviso.  This  arose  upon  a  resolution 
offered  by  David  Wilmot,  M.  C.,  from  Pennsylvania, 
declaring  that  slavery  should  not  be  permitted  in 
the  territory  that  had  been  acquired  from  Mexico. 
It  soon  became  the  paramount  issue,  and  resulted 
in  wide-spread  divisions  in  both  political  parties. 
In  consequence  of  this  the  Liberty  party  in  1848 
was  merged  in  the  new  Free-Soil  party,  formed 

i  Whittier  wrote  much  for  the  "Emancipator,"  from  1837  to  1842. 
Some  of  his  well-known  anti-slavery  lyrics  appeared  in  it.  After 
his  return  from  Philadelphia  in  1839-40,  he  aided  Mr.  Leavitt 
almost  constantly.  A  letter  from  Elizabeth  Whittier,  preserved  by 
a  friend,  and  dated  January  4,  1842,  has  this  sentence  :  "  Greenleaf 
is  still  in  Boston.  .  .  .  He  has  the  care  of  the  *  Emancipator '  while 
Joshua  Leavitt  is  in  Washington.  .  .  .  Greenleaf  will  be  in  Boston 
perhaps  a  month  longer." 


Political  Movement  against  Slavery.      129 

at  Buff alo,  when  Martin  Van  Burcn  was  nominated 
for  President  and  Charles  Francis  Adams  for  Vice- 
President.  Nearly  300,000  votes  were  cast  for 
this  ticket.  The  Free-Soil  party  had  its  candidates 
also  in  the  elections  of  1852  and  1856 ;  but  in  I860 
it  was  absorbed  in  a  newly  formed  Republican 
party,  which  carried  the  country  in  the  election  of 
Abraham  Lincoln. 

We  have  seen  that  Garrison  and  his  friends 
stoutly  opposed  political  action.  After  a  time  they 
went  further,  and  declared  that  they  could  not  con 
scientiously  vote  in  national  elections  for  any  party  ; 
for  the  reason  that  the  guarantees  given  to  slavery 
in  the  United  States  Constitution  made  it  in  Scrip 
ture  phrase,  "  an  agreement  with  death  and  a 
covenant  with  hell."  There  was  not  any  marked 
personal  contention  between  the  two  divisions  of  the 
anti-slavery  forces,  but  each  adhered  to  its  own 
methods  and  raised  its  own  funds. 

Theodore  Parker  likened  the  divergence  to  the 
difference  in  the  management  of  a  sailing  vessel 
and  of  a  steamship.  The  latter,  as  long  as  the 
power  lasts,  pushes  on  to  its  destination  in  a 
straight  line,  regardless  of  wind  and  tide.  The 
former  tacks  and  trims  sails  to  take  advantage  of 
every  wind  that  blows.  When  the  sailing  ship 
stands  off  on  a  tack,  the  captain  of  the  steamer 

9 


130  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

shouts,  "  Aha !  you  are  off  the  course."  But  the 
sailing  master  was  content  to  be  derided,  if  mean 
while  his  manoeuvres  brought  him  nearer  his  des 
tination. 

Whittier  was  from  the  first  in  favor  of  political 
action,  and  bore  his  part  in  the  various  contests 
before  enumerated.  He  felt  obliged  by  his  view 
of  expediency  to  differ  from  his  early  friend,  but 
their  personal  relations  were  never  strained.  In 
Oliver  Johnson's  "Life  of  Garrison"  there  is  a 
statement  by  Whittier  of  his  position  that  should 
have  a  place  here. 

"During  the  long  and  hard  struggle  in  which  the 
abolitionists  were  engaged,  and  amidst  the  new  and  diffi 
cult  questions  and  side  issues  which  presented  themselves, 
it  could  scarcely  be  otherwise  than  that  differences  of 
opinion  and  action  should  arise  among  them.  The  leader 
and  his  disciples  could  not  always  see  alike.  My  friend, 
the  author  of  this  book,  I  think,  generally  found  him 
self  in  full  accord  with  him,  while  I  often  decidedly 
dissented.  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  use  my  right  of  citizen 
ship  at  the  ballot-box  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  while 
Garrison,  with  equal  sincerity,  judged  and  counselled 
otherwise.  Each  acted  under  a  sense  of  individual  duty 
and  responsibility,  and  our  personal  relations  were  un 
disturbed.  If,  at  times,  the  great  anti-slavery  leader 
failed  to  do  justice  to  the  motives  of  those  who,  while 
in  hearty  sympathy  with  his  hatred  of  slavery,  did  not 
agree  with  some  of  his  opinions  and  methods,  it  was  but 


Political  Movement  against  Slaver?/.      131 

the  pardonable  :in<l  not  unnatural  result  of  his  intensity 
of  purpose,  and  his  self-identification  with  the,  cause  he 
advocated  :  and,  while  compelled  to  dissent,  in  some  par 
ticulars,  from  hi>  judgment  of  men  and  measures,  the 
<:re:it  mass  of  tin-  anti-lavery  people  recognized  his  moral 
leader-hip.  Tin-  contro\erMe>  of  Old  and  New  organi/a- 
tion,  Xon-Koi-tanoe  and  Political  action,  may  now  be 
looked  upon  by  tin-  parties  to  them,  who  still  survive, 
with  the  philo.xophic  calmness  which  follows  the  subsi 
dence  of  prejudice  and  pa>sion.  "\Ve  were  but  fallible 
men,  and  doubtless  often  erred  in  feeling,  speech,  and 
action.  Ours  was  but  the  common  experience  of  Re 
formers  in  all  ages  — 

*  Never  in  custom's  oilod  grooves 
The  world  to  a  higher  level  moves, 
But  grates  and  grinds  with  friction  hard 
On  granite  boulder  and  flinty  shard. 

The  active  Virtues  blush  to  find 

The  Vices  wearing  their  badire,  behind, 

And  Graces  and  Charities  feel  the  fire 

Wheivhi  the  -ins  of  the  a  ire  expire.'  l 

"It  is  too  late  now  to  dwell  on  these  differences.  I 
choose  rather,  with  a  feeling  of  gratitude  to  God,  to 
recall  the  great  happiness  of  laboring  with  the  noble 
company  of  whom  Garrison  was  the  central  figure.  I 
love  to  think  of  him  as  he  seemed  to  me,  when  in  the 
fresh  dawn  of  manhood  he  sat  with  me  in  the  old  Haver- 
hill  farm-house,  revolving  even  then  schemes  of  benevo 
lence  ;  or,  with  cheery  smile,  welcoming  me  to  his  frugal 

1  From  Whittier's  poem  upon  Whitefield,  "  The  Preacher." 


132  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

meal  of  bread  and  milk  in  the  dingy  Boston  printing- 
room  ;  or,  as  I  found  him  in  the  gray  December  morning 
in  the  small  attic  of  a  colored  man,  in  Philadelphia, 
finishing  his  night-long  task  of  drafting  his  immortal 
i  Declaration  of  Sentiments '  of  the  American  Anti- 
slavery  Society  ;  or,  as  I  saw  him  in  the  jail  of  Leverett 
Street,  after  his  almost  miraculous  escape  from  the  mob, 
playfully  inviting  me  to  share  the  safe  lodgings  which  the 
State  had  provided  for  him ;  and  in  all  the  varied  scenes 
and  situations  where  we  acted  together  our  parts  in  the 
great  endeavor  and  success  of  Freedom." 

Since  the  election  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  Whittier 
has  been  a  steadfast  supporter  of  the  Republican 
party. 

The  Rev.  S.  J.  May,  in  his  "  Reminiscences,"  * 
pays  a  warm  tribute  to  the  genius  and  services  of 
Whittier,  which  we  copy,  although  in  some  sen 
tences  there  are  repetitions  of  parts  of  our  own 
narrative. 

"  But  of  all  our  American  poets,  John  G.  Whittier  has 
from  first  to  last  done  most  for  the  abolition  of  slavery. 
All  my  anti-slavery  brethren,  I  doubt  not,  will  unite 
with  me  to  crown  him  our  laureate.  From  1832  to  the 
close  of  our  dreadful  war  in  1865  his  harp  of  liberty 
was  never  hung  up.  Not  an  important  occasion  escaped 
him.  Every  significant  incident  drew  from  his  heart 
some  pertinent  and  often  very  impressive  or  rousing 
verses.  His  name  appears  in  the  first  volume  of  the 
1  Page  263. 


Political  M«<',mcnt  against  Slavery.      133 

'Liberator,'  with  high  commendations  of  his  poetry  ami 
his  character.  As  early  as  1831  he  was  attracted  to  Mr. 
Garrison  by  sympathy  with  his  avowed  purpose  to  abolish 
slavery.  Their  acquaintance  ripened  into  a  heart-felt 
friendship,  as  he  declared  in  the  lines,  written  in  1833 
['  To  W.  L.  G.']  :  - 

4  Champion  of  those  who  groan  beneath 
Oppression's  iron  hand,'  &C.1 

"Mr.  Whittier  proved  the  sincerity  of  these  profes 
sions.  He  joined  the  first  anti-slavery  society  and  be 
came  an  active  official.  Notwithstanding  his  dislike  of 
public  speaking,  he  sometimes  lectured  at  that  early  day, 
when  so  few  were  found  willing  to  avow  and  advocate 
the  right  of  the  enslaved  to  immediate  liberation  from 
bondage,  without  the  condition  of  removal  to  Liberia. 

"Mr.  Whittier  attended  the  convention  at  Philadel 
phia  (December,  1833)  that  formed  the  American  Anti- 
slavery  Society.  lie  was  one  of  the  secretaries  of  that 
body,  and  a  member,  with  Mr.  Garrison,  of  the  com 
mittee  appointed  to  prepare  the  *  Declaration  of  our 
Sentiments  arid  Purposes.'  Although  .  .  .  Mr.  Gar 
rison  wrote  almost  every  sentence  of  that  admirable 
document,  just  as  it  now  stands,  yet  I  well  remember 
the  intense  interest  with  which  Mr.  Whittier  scrutinized 
it,  and  how  heartily  he  indorsed  it. 

"In  1834,  by  his  invitation,  I  visited  Ilaverhill,  where 
he  then  resided.  I  was  his  guest,  and  lectured  under  his 
auspices  in  explanation  and  defence  of  our  abolition  doc 
trines  and  plans.  Again,  the  next  year,  after  the  mob 

1  This  was  published  in  the  "  Emancipator,"  December  6,  1838. 


134  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

spirit  had  broken  out,  I  went  to  Haverhill  by  his  invita 
tion,  and  he  shared  with  me  in  the  perils  which  I  have 
described.  .  .  . 

"In  January,  1836,  Mr.  Whittier  attended  the  annual 
meeting  of  the  Massachusetts  Anti-slavery  Society,  and 
boarded  the  while  in  the  house  where  I  was  living.  He 
heard  Dr.  Pollen's  great  speech  on  that  occasion,  and 
came  home  so  much  affected  by  it  that,  either  that  night 
or  the  next  morning,  he  wrote  those  t  Stanzas  for  the 
Times,'  which  are  among  the  best  of  his  productions  :  — 

'  Is  this  the  land  our  fathers  loved  ?  '  1 

"I  can  hardly  refrain  from  giving  my  readers  the 
whole  of  these  stanzas  ;  but  I  hope  they  all  are,  or  will 
at  once  make  themselves,  familiar  with  them.  As  I  read 
them  now,  they  revive  in  my  bosom  not  the  memory  only, 
but  the  glow  they  kindled  there  when  I  first  pored  over 
them.  Then  his  lines  entitled  '  Massachusetts  to  Vir 
ginia,'  and  those  he  wrote  on  the  adoption  of  Pinckney's 
Resolution,  and  the  passage  of  Calhoun's  bill,  excluding 
anti-slavery  newspapers,  pamphlets,  and  letters  from  the 
United  States  mails,  —  indeed  all  his  anti-slavery  poetry, 
helped  mightily  to  keep  us  alive  to  our  high  duties,  and 
fired  us  with  holy  resolution.  Let  our  laureate's  verses 
still  be  said  and  sung  throughout  the  land ;  for  if  the 
portents  of  the  day  be  true,  our  conflict  with  the  enemies 
of  liberty,  the  oppressors  of  humanity,  is  not  yet  ended." 

1  Mr.  May's  recollection  is  here  at  fault.  No  doubt  Whittier 
wrote  a  poem  on  the  occasion  referred  to,  but  the  poem  beginning, 
"  Is  this  the  land  our  fathers  loved  ?  "  was  printed  in  the  "  Boston 
Courier,"  September  22,  1835,  and  was  signed,  "A  FARMER." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TRIED    BY   FIRE. 

Whittii-r  again  edits  the  "Gazette."  —  Resides  in  New  York.  — 
Goes  to  Philadelphia  to  conduct  the  "Pennsylvania  Freeman."  — 
Burning  of  Pennsylvania  Hall  by  a  Pro-slavery  Mob.  —  Removal 
of  the  "Whittier  Family  to  Amesbury. 

A  MAN  in  public  life  is  fortunate  who  has  an 
independent  fortune.  In  the  United  States 
an  official  salary  counts  for  nothing,  being  seldom 
sufficient  for  actual  needs ;  and  a  man  in  public 
station  who  must  be  solicitous  about  resources,  and 
who  has  a  wholesome  dread  of  debt,  will  never  be. 
able  to  hold  a  creditable  position  in  society,  nor 
to  do  justice  to  his  own  abilities.  A  reformer  is 
under  similar  conditions.  Wendell  Phillips,  Ed 
mund  Quincy,  and  Francis  Jackson,  as  well  as 
the  Mays,  Lorings,  and  Shaws,  were  possessed  of 
wraith,  and  could  give  time  and  money  to  the 
cause.  Garrison  was  poor,  avowedly  and  honor- 
ablypoor;  but  he  was  put  forward  and  sustained 
by  those  who  had  the  means,  and  he  was  never 


136  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

in  the  least  affected  by  the  usual  vices  that  adhere 
to  men  in  dependent  positions.  A  chronic  office 
holder,  or  a  dependant  upon  subscriptions  or 
"  passing  the  hat "  at  public  meetings,  generally 
ends,  if  he  does  not  begin,  with  being  a  Harold 
Skimpole. 

The  sense  of  personal  independence  was  as  nat 
ural  to  Whittier  as  his  Quaker  garb  and  dialect. 
He  had  the  desire  of  Agar,  neither  poverty  nor 
riches,  but  to  maintain  himself  he  was  bound  to 
a  life  of  labor  and  to  habits  of  rigid  economy. 
Not  in  the  least  avaricious,  he  gave  his  time  when 
he  could  be  of  service,  and  he  wrote  effective  prose 
and  inspiring  verse  freely  and  without  a  thought 
of  profit.  Poetry,  as  we  have  seen,  was  not  a  mer 
chantable  commodity  in  1836,  and  the  productions 
of  an  abolitionist  were  scorned  by  all  but  the  few 
illuminated  souls.  It  is  not  probable  that  any 
literary  periodical  out  of  New  England  would  have 
admitted  a  poem  with  his  name,  —  at  least  after 
the  struggle  began.  The  ties  of  honor  and  self- 
respect  held  him  to  the  farm,  and  no  matter  if  he 
had  written  with  an  angel's  pen,  his  hands  must 
still  be  browned  and  hardened  by  toil.  From  the 
death  of  his  father  in  1832  up  to  1837  he  managed 
the  farm,  hiring  some  help,  but  working  faithfully 
himself.  The  results  were  as  meagre  as  ever. 


Tried  If/  Fire.  137 

product  had  to  be  utilized.  He  used  to 
drive  his  team  in  the  autumn  to  Rocks  Bridge, 
which  is  at  the  head  of  tide-water  in  the  Herri- 
mac,  where  the  coasting  vessels  from  Maine  then 
came,  carrying  apples  and  vegetables  to  exchange 
for  salt  fish  to  eke  out  the  winter  stores.  There 
are  no  hardships  in  a  life  of  toil  to  a  resolute 
and  contented  mind. 

After  the  exciting  experiences  of  1835,  Whittier 
remained  at  home,  engaged  in  his  daily  work  and  in 
frequent  correspondence.  A  poet  always  finds  an 
odd  hour  in  which  to  jot  down  his  flashes  of  inspi 
ration.  Thoughts  spring  up  even  when  the  hands 
are  busy  ;  and  lines  will  shape  themselves  in  order 
and  metre  by  the  sweep  of  scythes,  the  strokes  of 
flails,  or  the  rhythm  of  a  spinning-wheel.  During 
these  two  years,  and  in  fact  for  several  years  after 
wards,  there  were  no  publications,  and  little  to 
engage  the  attention  of  a  literary  biographer ;  but 
we  know  from  subsequent  results  that  the  time 
was  filled  with  rich  and  varied  accomplishment. 

In  May,  1836,  he  was  again  engaged  as  editor  of 
the  "  Gazette "  in  Ilaverhill,  but  the  connection 
lasted  only  until  the  middle  of  December. 

In  the  summer  of  1837,  having  been  chosen  one 
of  the  secretaries  of  the  National  Anti-slavery 
Society,  he  went  to  New  York  and  remained  tlnve 


138  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

months.  His  associates  in  the  office  were  Henry  B. 
Stanton  and  Theodore  D.  Weld. 

Late  in  1837  he  went  to  Philadelphia  to  write  for 
the  "  Pennsylvania  Freeman."  As  has  been  stated 
already,  Mr.  A.  W.  Thayer,  who  had  left  Haverhill, 
was  then  conducting  a  newspaper  in  Philadelphia, 
and  Whittier  was  once  more  a  boarder  in  his  family. 
Mrs.  Thayer  says  that  the  anti-slavery  people  were 
isolated,  shut  out  from  general  society,  but  were 
fortunately  numerous-  enough  to  make  a  pleasant 
society  of  their  own.  As  in  Boston,  the  interests 
of  merchants,  bankers,  and  professional  men  were 
all  on  one  side.  Many  of  the  Quakers,  even,  having 
grown  rich  and  worldly,  had  caught  the  prevailing 
infection,  and  there  was  a  sharp  line  of  division 
between  them  and  the  unsophisticated  believers  in 
the  primitive  doctrines  of  Fox.  Whittier  remained 
faithful  no  less  to  his  religious  convictions  than 
to  his  anti-slavery  principles,  and  he  was  not  to  be 
turned  aside  from  either.  Mrs.  Thayer  remembers 
that  once  he  was  induced  to  attend  a  religious  ser 
vice  at  other  than  a  Friends'  meeting-house ;  and 
that  was  when  the  Eev.  Dr.  Todd  of  Massachu 
setts  was  announced  to  preach  in  a  Presbyterian 
church. 

Whittier  was  formally  announced  as  editor  of  the 
"  Freeman  "  in  the  issue  for  March  15,  1838,  but  he 


Tried  ly  Fire.  139 

had  written  for  the  ]>a].or  before;  lie  resigned  his 
charge  Fel.ruary  20,  1840,  and  left  Philadelphia  in 
May  following.  But  his  residence  in  that  city  was 
not  continuous;  he  made  several  long  visits  to 
Massachusetts  in  the  period,  and  sent  his  edito 
rial  work  by  mail.  I le  wrote  from  NVw  York  and 
Boston  in  June,  1838;  and  letters  from  him  dated 
at  Amesbury  appeared  between  November,  1838,  and 
March,  1839.  In  July  and  airain  in  September  of 
1839  he  made  tours  in  the  western  part  of  Penn 
sylvania,  in  the  interests  of  the  society. 

A  small  collection  of  bis  poems  (ISO  pages,  of 
which  91  are  devoted  to  phases  of  the  question  of 
slavery)  was  issued  by  the  society  on  November  1, 
1838,  bearing  the  name  of  Joseph  Healey  as  pub 
lisher.  Mr.  Healey  was  the  society's  financial  agent, 
and  the  collection  was  put  forth  as  a  kind  of  anti- 
slavery  tract. 

The  anti-slavery  people  of  Philadelphia  and  other 
friends  of  free  discussion  had  erected  a  large  build 
ing,  with  business  rooms  in  the  basement  and  on 
the  ground  floor,  and  a  spacious  hall  above.  It  was 
finished  early  in  May,  1838,  and  the  office  of  Whit- 
tier's  paper  was  at  once  established  in  it.  It  was 
named  Pennsylvania  Hall,  and  the  audience-room 
was  e.pened  to  the  public  on  May  15th,  with  appro 
priate  exercises.  The  leading  abolitionists  of  the 


140  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

country  were  present,  and  there  were  meetings  for 
three  days.  The  principal  feature  in  the  first  day's 
proceedings  was  the  long  and  elaborate  oration  of 
David  Paul  Brown.  In  the  evening  there  were 
addresses  by  Arnold  Buffum,  of  Philadelphia,  and 
Thomas  P.  Hunt,  of  North  Carolina.  On  the  second 
day  Charles  C.  Burleigh  read  a  poetical  address, 
written  for  the  occasion  by  Whittier.  This  poem 
is  included  in  the  volume  published  in  1849  by 
B.  B.  Mussey  &  Co.,  but  not  in  the  complete  edi 
tion  of  1857.  It  contains  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  lines  of  ten-syllabled  heroics.  It  is  animated, 
full  of  vigorous  thought,  and  has  some  striking  pas 
sages  ;  but  it  is  generally  declamatory  rather  than 
poetical,  and  is  better  adapted  to  stir  a  sympathetic 
audience  than  to  command  unqualified  admiration 
in  the  closet.  Addresses  followed  during  the  day 
and  evening,  prominent  among  them  being  those 
of  Garrison,  Burleigh,  and  Angelina  Grimk^  of 
South  Carolina.  The  discussion  was  not  monopo 
lized  by  the  abolitionists  ;  the  platform  was  occu 
pied  partly  by  colonizationists  and  other  opponents 
of  immediate  emancipation.  Free  speech  prevailed, 
each  speaker  being  solely  responsible  for  his  own 
opinions. 

During  the  first  evening  there  were  indications 
of  a  disorderly   spirit,  and  a  pane   of  glass   was 


Tried  by  Fire.  141 

broken  by  a  stone.  On  the  second  day  a  number 
of  people  came  to  hiss  and  otherwise  to  interrupt 
the  proceedings.  In  the  evening  the  disorder  in 
creased  ;  many  windows  were  broken,  and  the  con 
gregation  was  annoyed  by  the  hooting  and  yelling 
of  the  mob  that  had  collected  around  and  in  the 
building.  On  the  morning  of  the  17th  the  president 
of  the  Pennsylvania  Hall  Association  formally  in 
voked  the  protection  of  the  mayor  and  of  the  sheriff. 
The  turmoil  continued  at  intervals  during  the  day, 
and  it  is  certain  that  nothing  was  done  by  the 
authorities  to  check  the  mob.  About  sunset  the 
mayor  told  the  president  that  if  the  building  were 
vacated  and  given  into  his  possession  he  would 
cause  the  rioters  to  disperse.  The  keys  were  there 
upon  delivered  to  him,  and  he  proceeded  to  address 
his  "  Fellow  Citizens."  After  a  few  words,  depre 
cating  disorder,  he  said :  "  There  will  be  no  meeting 
here  this  evening.  The  house  has  been  given  up  to 
me.  The  managers  had  the  right  to  hold  the  meet 
ing,  but  as  good  citizens  they  have,  at  my  request, 
suspended  their  meeting  for  this  evening.  We  never 
call  out  the  military  here  !  We  do  not  need  such 
measures.  Indeed,  I  would,  fellow-citizens,  look 
upon  you  as  my  police  !  I  trust  you  will  abide  by 
the  laws  and  keep  order.  I  now  bid  you  farewell 
for  the  night." 


142  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Upon  this  plain  intimation  the  mob  gave  three 
cheers  for  the  mayor,  and  soon  after  commenced 
a  systematic  attack.  They  forced  the  doors,  ran 
sacked  the  bookstore,  carried  papers  and  other 
combustible  materials  to  the  speakers'  platform, 
where  they  set  fire  to  them,  and  then,  turning 
on  the  gas  to  add  fury  to  the  flames,  they  retired 
to  enjoy  the  spectacle.  The  building  was  almost 
wholly  consumed  in  a  few  hours. 

A  Southerner  who  witnessed  the  scene  wrote 
an  account  of  it  for  a  New  Orleans  paper,  from 
which  the  following  paragraphs  are  copied ;  the 
italics  are  ours. 

"  At  half-past  seven,  P.  M.,  the  people,  feeling  themselves 
able  and  willing  to  do  their  duty,  burst  open  the  doors 
of  the  house,  entered  their  abolition  bookstore,  and  made 
complete  havoc  of  all  within.  They  then  beat  out  all  the 
windows,  and,  gathering  a  pile  of  window  blinds  and  a 
pile  of  abolition  books  together,  they  placed  them  under 
the  pulpit  and  set  fire  to  them  and  the  building  in  gen 
eral.  .  .  .  The  multitude  without,  as  soon  as  they  per 
ceived  the  building  on  fire,  gave  a  loud  shout  of  joy.  A 
large  number  of  splendid  fire  engines  were  immediately 
on  the  spot,  many  of  which  could  throw  water  more  than 
a  hundred  feet  high;  but  the  noble  firemen,  to  a  man,  of 
all  the  numerous  companies  present,  refused  to  throw  one 
drop  of  water  on  the  consuming  building.  All  they  did 
was  to  direct  their  engines  to  play  upon  the  private  build 
ings  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  blazing  hall,  some 


Tried  by  /V/v.  143 

of  whieh  were  in  great  danger,  as  they  were  nearly  join 
ing  tlie  hall.  .  .  .  Such  conduct  in  tin-  Philadelphia  tire 
r.,iii].:ini.-s  deserves  tin-  hiuhot  prai>e  and  gratitude  of  all 
frirmU  of  the  rnioii.  and  of  all  Southerners  in  particular  ; 
and  I  hope  and  tru>t  the  fire  companies  of  New  Orleans 
will  hold  a  inrrtini:.  and  testify  in  some  suitable  manner 
to  the  Philadelphia  lire  companies  their  sincere  approba 
tion  of  their  noble  conduct  on  this  occa>ion." 

Another  Southerner  wrote  an  account  of  the 
affair  to  a  paper  in  Augusta,  Ga.  He  and  a  friend 
enjoyed  the  spectacle.  He  says  :  - 

kt  We  lent  our  feeble  efforts  to  effect  the  demolition 
of  this  castle  of  iniquity.  .  .  .  The  fire  companies  re 
paired  tardily  to  the  scene  of  action,  and  not  a  drop 
of  water  did  they  pour  upon  that  accursed  Moloch  until 
it  was  a  heap  of  ruins.  Sir,  it  would  have  gladdened 
your  heart  to  have  beheld  that  lofty  tower  of  mischief  en 
veloped  in  flames.  The  devouring  element  .  .  .  seemed 
to  wear,  combined  with  its  terrible  majesty,  beauty  and 
tli-l'ufht.  To  witness  those  beautiful  spires  of  flame  gave 
undoubted  assurance  to  the  heart  of  the  Southron  that 
in  his  brethren  of  the  North  he  has  friends  who  appre 
ciate  him,  and  who  will  defend  him,  though  absent,  at 
any  and  at  every  hazard." 

In  reading  these  letters  we  cannot  but  regret 
that  the  Rev.  Petroleum  V.  Nasby  had  not  then 
arisen  ;  for  he  only  could  do  justice  to  them. 

The  vindictive  spirit  of  the  mob  was  far  from 
being  satiMied.  The  excitement  continued  during 


144  John  Gr&nkqf  Whittier. 

the  next  day,  and  in  the  evening  a  charitable  insti 
tution  called  "  Shelter  for  Colored  Orphans  "  was 
burned.  A  church  belonging  to  colored  people 
was  attacked  the  day  after  and  somewhat  damaged. 
After  the  tumults  had  subsided,  which  was  six  days 
later,  the  mayor  offered  a  reward  for  the  arrest 
and  conviction  of  any  of  the  rioters,  but  of  course 
to  no  purpose.  The  day  before  the  outrage  the 
Pennsylvania  Anti-slavery  Society  had  given  notice 
that  a  meeting  would  be  held  at  the  hall  the  next 
morning  for  the  choice  of  officers.  The  members 
met  together  by  the  still  smoking  ruins,  and,  with 
the  vast  mob  still  howling  around  them,  calmly 
transacted  their  business.  A  scene  for  a  grand 
historical  picture ! 

The  office  of  Whittier' s  paper  was  in  the  base 
ment  of  Pennsylvania  Hall,  and  it  was  sacked  as 
well  as  burned,  involving  a  total  destruction  of  his 
property  therein.  The  publication  was  continued, 
however,  with  but  little  delay,  and  he  remained  in 
Philadelphia  somewhat  more  than  a  year,  when,  on 
account  of  failing  health,  he  gave  up  the  enterprise 
and  returned  to  Massachusetts. 

An  account  of  the  dedicatory  services,  with  most 
of  the  speeches  in  full,  and  of  the  destruction  of 
the  hall,  with  the  futile  "  investigation  "  that  fol 
lowed,  has  been  preserved  in  a  book.  The  address 


Tried  If/  Fire.  145 

of  the  Pennsylvania  Anti-slavery  Society  upon  the 
subject  was  written  by  Whittier  and  Charles  C. 
Burleigh,  and  published  in  the  "Pennsylvania 
Freeman." 

Among  the  poems  of  this  time  preserved  in  the 
complete  edition  are  the  "New  Year's  Address"  to 
the  subscribers  of  the  paper,  "  The  Farewell  of  the 
Slave  Mother,"  and  the  one  entitled  "A  Relic," 
written  on  receiving  a  cane  made  from  a  piece  of 
wood  saved  from  the  flames. 

In  1840,  the  farm  in  East  Haverhill  having  been 
sold,  and  Whittier's  mother,  sister,  and  aunt  hav 
ing  removed  to  Amesbury  (partly  for  the  sake  of 
being  near  their  meeting-house),  he  joined  them 
on  his  return  from  Philadelphia,  and  there  is  still 
his  legal  residence.  For  the  last  few  years,  how 
ever,  he  has  spent  most  of  his  time  at  Oak  Knoll, 
in  Danvers,  Mass.,  the  attractive  country-home  of 
relatives. 

The  house  in  Amesbury  is  a  plain,  comfortable 
structure  of  two  stories,  standing  on  the  main 
street,  and  its  appearance  is  familiar  to  the  public 
by  means  of  engravings.  In  Amesbury,  Whittier 
was  nearer  to  many  scenes  he  has  drawn  with  such 
loving  lines.  The  "  swift  Powow  "  is  not  far,  nor 
the  lovely  river  Artichoke  (flowing  under  contin 
uous  green  arches).  Lake  Attitash  is  but  a  few 


146  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

miles  distant,  and  the  unrivalled  beauty  of  "The 
Laurels"  is  to  be  seen  across  the  Merrimac,  a 
little  farther  down. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  at  the  time  of  the 
change  of  residence  the  family  consisted  of  four 
persons  only.  The  farm  having  passed  out  of  his 
hands,  Whittier  thenceforth  depended  on  his  pen 
for  support. 


CHAPTER  X. 

VOICES   OF   FREEDOM. 

AVhittier  edits  the  "Middlesex  Standard."  —  "The  Stranger  in 
Lowell."  —  Intense  Feeling  shown  in  the  "Voices."  —  "The 
Pastoral  Letter."  —  Poetical  Merits  of  the  "Voices." 


n~!IIE  four  or  five  years  following  Whittier's  re 
moval  to  Amesbury  were  filled  with  earnest, 
self-denying  labor  for  the  anti-slavery  cause,  done 
with  no  reward  and  in  straitened  circumstances, 
in  addition  to  constant  writing  for  the  periodicals, 
us  \\ill  hereafter  be  seen.  The  time  had  not  come 
for  any  general  appreciation  of  his  poems  ;  with 
most  readers  it  was  sufficient  that  he  was  an  abo 
litionist,  and  that  fact  put  him  without  the  pale 
of  sympathy.  In  addition  to  his  purely  literary 
work,  he  wrote  constantly  for  the  newspapers 
win-never  he  could  gain  admission  for  his  unpop 
ular  views  ;  and  he  often  went  from  town  to  town, 
(•mli-avoring  to  create  anti-slavery  sentiment,  and 
to  organize  voters  for  effective  service  at  the  polls. 
At  this  period  his  most  intimate  friend  and  co- 
laborur  was  Henry  B.  Stanton,  now  a  resident  of 


148  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

New  York.  They  were  great  lobby  workers  in  the 
State  legislature,  and  Whittier,  strange  as  it  may 
appear,  was  "  a  superb  hand  at  it." l  With  all  his 
exterior  calm  he  was  a  shrewd  judge  of  men,  and 
knew  how  to  appeal  to  what  was  best  in  them. 
This  steady,  persistent  work  in  politics,  solely  for 
moral  ends,  has  never  been  intermitted. 

In  1844  he  resided  in  Lowell  for  six  months, 
writing  for  the  "  Middlesex  Standard,"  a  Liberty 
party  paper.  This  was  a  congenial  labor,  if  poorly 
paid.  One  series  of  papers  which  he  wrote  for 
the  "  Standard "  was  afterwards  reprinted  in  Bos 
ton,  called  "  The  Stranger  in  Lowell."  Most  of 
these  articles  will  be  found  in  the  second  volume 
of  Whittier's  prose  works. 

The  election  of  1844  was  the  precursor  of  the 
Mexican  War,  which  was  waged  solely  to  extend 
the  area  of  slavery,  and  thereby  perpetuate  its 
ascendency  in  the  government.  To  Whittier,  an 
opponent  of  war  and  slavery  both,  this  was  an 
unspeakable  outrage,  —  a  crime  against  a  nation 
which  had  only  too  much  reason  for  its  jealousy  of 
the  United  States,  —  a  crime  against  all  humanity. 
His  poems  written  at  this  period  are  remarkable 
for  their  vigor  and  intensity  of  feeling.  It  would 
be  difficult  now  to  assign  dates  for  many  of  them, 

1  From  a  letter  of  Wendell  Phillips. 


Voices  of  Freedom.  149 

as  they  appeared  in  many  different  newspapers, 
and  their  order  in  the  collected  edition  is  not 
chronological. 

It  is  well,  perhaps,  here  to  glance  briefly  at  the 
"  Voices  of  Freedom.  From  1833  to  1848." l  We 
must  remember  that  Whittier  has  regarded  poetry 
as  a  means  and  not  an  end.  His  aim  has  heen  to 
reach  the  hearts  of  men,  and  poetic  diction  has 
been  only  the  feathering  of  his  arrows.  Had  he 
lived  in  a  time  when  there  were  no  oppressed  to  be 
set  free,  no  wrongs  to  be  redressed,  no  evils  to  be 
overthrown,  he  might  have  sung  hymns  of  pure 
beauty  and  joy;  for  no  poet  evinces  a  keener  sense 
of  the  divine  in  man,  or  a  more,  ecstatic  pleasure 
in  the  divine  manifestations  in  nature.  Those  who 
read  poems  for  intellectual  pleasure  will  not  feel 
attracted  by  these  strong  utterances,  so  much  as 
by  the  legends,  ballads,  and  landscape  pieces  far 
ther  on.  But  to  the  elders,  who  were  living  in  that 
dreary  time  when  evil  was  good,  injustice  was  hon 
ored,  and  God  was  mocked,  these  poems  appear 

i  Published  by  Lindsay  &  Blakiston,  Philadelphia,  1849.  These 
poems  were  gathered  from  newspapers  for  which  they  were  origi 
nally  written.  The  most  of  them  may  be  found  in  the  files  of  the 
Liberator,  Emancipator,  Anti-slavery  Standard,  Haverhill  Gazette, 
ami  National  Kra.  Whittier's  contributions  to  the  "Era"  began 
in  1847,  and  afterwards  reached  a  very  large  number.  But  the 
sources  of  some  of  these  "  Voices "  have  not  been  found,  although 
diligent  search  has  been  made. 


150  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

to  embody  all  their  thoughts,  their  labors  and 
sufferings,  and  their  aspirations.  More  than  this  : 
they  renew  in  mind  the  glow  with  which  they  were 
first  read,  as  stanza  succeeds  stanza  of  impassioned 
eloquence,  paralleled  only  by  the  majestic  burdens 
of  the  prophets  of  old.  Read  now  in  the  light  of 
freedom,  some  of  these  poems  have  a  sublime 
prophetic  tone.  That  one  entitled  simply  "  Stan 
zas  "  (from  the  "  Liberator,"  September,  1834)  has 
an  almost  terrible  force;  and  we  can  only  wonder 
that  the  heart  and  conscience  of  the  nation  could 
have  resisted  its  appeal.  Evidently  written  in  a 
white  heat,  the  language  is  at  once  terse  and  vehe 
ment,  and  the  sound  of  the  lines  is  like  the  clashing 
of  swords.  The  thoughts  and  emotions  are  sub 
limed,  as  happens  only  in  the  most  exalted  state  of 
the  creative  soul.  Such  a  poem  could  never  have 
been  composed.  It  is  as  difficult  to  quote  from  it,  as 
to  give  a  segment  of  a  moving  wave  of  lava ;  one 
familiar  stanza  may  be  given  to  recall  the  general 
character :  — 

"Go  —  let  us  ask  of  Constantine 

To  loose  his  grasp  on  Poland's  throat ; 
And  beg  the  lord  of  Mahmoud's  line 
To  spare  the  struggling  Suliote  ;  — 
Will  not  the  scorching  answer  come 

From  turbaned  Turk  and  scornful  Russ  : 
'  Go,  loose  your  fettered  slaves  at  home, 
Then  turn  and  ask  the  like  of  us  ! '  " 


Voices  of  Freedom.  151 

It  was  by  the  influence  of  lines  like  these,  more, 
perhaps,  than  by  the  eloquence  of  the  great  anti- 
slavery  orators,  that  the  hearts  of  men  were 
changed.  For  it  was  not  so  much  right  thinking 
that  was  needed  as  right  action.  The  poetry  of 
the  world  was  all  on  one  side,  and  could  not  have 
been  otherwise.  Read  in  country  newspapers, 
and  recited  in  schools,  these  humane  and  gen 
erous  sentiments  were  infused  into  the  minds  of 
youth.  The  boys  of  1844,  with  ideas  of  freedom 
in  mind,  grew  up  into  the  iron  men  of  1860 ;  and 
no  further  triumph  of  slavery  was  possible,  whether 
the  civil  war  had  come  or  had  not  come. 

Perhaps  the  most  brilliant  and  most  aggressive 
of  these  poems  is  the  one  entitled  "  The  Pastoral 
Letter,"  first  printed  in  the  "  Liberator,"  October, 
1837.  A  council  of  Congregational  clergymen  at 
Brookficld,  Mass.,  had  taken  occasion  to  discourage 
the  agitation  of  the  question  of  slavery,  and  they 
censured  especially  the  employment  of  female  anti- 
slavery  speakers,  —  quoting  Paul,  after  the  old 
fashion.  This  was  directed  mainly  against  the 
accomplished  sisters,  Sarah  and  Angelina  Grimkd, 
"  Carolina's  high-souled  daughters,"  who  had  been 
slave-owners,  and  who  now  as  advocates  of  free 
dom  were  making  trouble  for  the  quietist  preachers 
by  awakening  the  consciences  of  their  hearers. 


152  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

The  reply  of  Whittier  is  filled  with  grim  sarcasm 
and  indignant  invective.  The  blood  of  his  Quaker 
ancestors  was  in  a  ferment.  The  lines  hit  like 
rapier  thrusts.  The  memory  of  clerical  oppression 
and  of  the  wrongs  inflicted  upon  his  people  in 
Puritanic  times  would  not  be  restrained  :  — 

"  Now,  shame  upon  ye,  parish  Popes ! 

Was  it  thus  with  those,  your  predecessors, 
Who  sealed  with  racks,  and  fire,  and  ropes 
Their  loving-kindness  to  transgressors  ?  • 

Then,  wholesome  laAvs  relieved  the  Church 

Of  heretic  and  mischief-maker, 
And  priest  and  bailiff  joined  in  search, 

By  turns,  of  Papist,  witch,  and  Quaker  1 
The  stocks  were  at  each  church's  door, 

The  gallows  stood  on  Boston  Common, 
A  Papist's  ears  the  pillory  bore,  — 

The  gallows-rope,  a  Quaker  woman  ! 

Your  fathers  dealt  not  as  ye  deal 

With  '  non-professing  '  frantic  teachers  ; 
They  bored  the  tongue  with  red-hot  steel, 

And  flayed  the  backs  of  *  female  preachers.' 
Old  Newbury,  had  her  fields  a  tongue, 

And  Salem's  streets  could  tell  their  story, 
Of  fainting  woman  dragged  along, 

Gashed  by  the  whip,  accursed  and  gory !  " 

Tenderer  strains  follow,  as  after  a  time  sorrow 
takes  up  the  burden  of  wrath ;  but  throughout  the 
poem  there  is  the  same  resistless  movement,  in 


Voices  of  Freedom.  153 

which  argument  and  expostulation  are  blended, 
while  the  apt  rhymes  give  a  series  of  epigrammatic 
as  well  as  sonorous  blows. 

As  a  piece  of  literary  workmanship  (if  such  a 
phrase  can  be  used  in  reference  to  an  evident 
impromptu)  this  is  not  surpassed  by  any  of  the 
author's  poems.  What  a  pleasure  —  and  what 
a  surprise  —  it  would  be  to  see  such  vigorous 
strokes  in  any  magazine  to-day!  Whatever  Whit- 
tier  has  done  or  has  failed  to  do,  it  is  a  matter  of 
thankfulness  that  there  is  no  "uncertain  sound" 
in  his  verse.  Now-a-days  the  muse  appears  "  sick 
lied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast"  of  philosophy,  and 
it  is  considered  fatal  if  a  poem  can  be  understood 
by  the  unlearned  without  exegesis. 

The  stated  meetings  of  the  anti-slavery  societies 
were  almost  always  enlivened  by  some  new  poem 
by  Whittier,  as  well  as  by  the  magnificent  and 
incomparable  oratory  of  Wendell  Phillips.  Many 
of  the  "  Voices "  were  first  uttered  on  these  oc 
casions,  as  their  titles  and  dates  indicate.  The 
reader  will  find  them  uniformly  strong,  religious, 
and  hopeful. 

It  is  too  soon  by  many  years  to  attempt  to  give 
a  just  and  dispassionate  view  of  these  anti-slavery 
poems.  The  generation  just  coming  to  maturity 
cannot  understand  their  fiery  vehemence.  On  the 


154  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

other  hand,  there  are  men  past  middle  age  who 
have  certain  associations,  arising  partly  from  old 
party  ties,  and  partly  tinged  by  social  and  religious 
conservatism,  which,  though  they  are  without  any 
logical  relation  to  the  accepted  doctrines  and  the 
natural  feelings  of  to-day,  continue  unconsciously 
to  sway  their  judgment  and  to  nourish  the  old 
antipathy.  The  "  Webster  Whigs,"  as  the  leading 
men  of  Boston  delighted  to  call  themselves,  who 
had  spent  the  best  years  of  their  manhood  in 
contending  against  anti-slavery  agitation,  and  to 
whom  every  glowing  lyric  was  only  a  new  fire 
brand  to  imperil  the  national  edifice,  could  not 
bring  themselves  to  consider  "  Voices  of  Freedom  " 
as  poetry  at  all.  They  might  admit  the  force  of 
expression  and  the  sure  and  effective  rhythm,  but 
who  could  expect  the  subjects  of  such  terrible 
castigation  to  admire  the  skill  with  which  it  was 
administered  ?  The  truth  is,  that  much  of  the  old 
party  prejudice  still  lingers,  though  unacknowl 
edged,  in  many  minds.  The  political  leaders  who 
were  on  what  we  may  now  fairly  term  the  wrong 
side  have  quite  generally  remained  aloof  to  this 
day,  —  not  as  justifying  human  slavery  or  ap 
proving  the  course  of  the  South,  but  still  repro 
bating  the  methods  of  the  victors,  and  convinced 
that  if  they  had  been  intrusted  with  the  direction 


Voices  of  Frced< mi.  155 

of  affairs,  the  earthquake  would  have  been  put 
down,  or  would  have  done  its  upheaval  more 
gently.1 

If  the  conservative  is  still  unable  to  appreciate 
the  mi'rits  of  the  "  Voices,"  the  anti-slavery  man 
\\lio  IHHV  his  part  in  the  long  and  often  desperate 
conflict  is  perhaps  equally  disqualified  to  form  an 
impartial  opinion.  We  may  say  once  more  that  in 
his  mind  and  memory  the  "  Voices"  are  associated 
with  all  his  toils  and  his  triumphs ;  they  represent 
his  inmost  feelings  at  the  time  when  they  were  pro 
foundly  moved.  They  accord  with  his  deepest  con 
victions  of  right  and  duty ;  and  their  high,  solemn 
phrases  seem  to  come  with  a  divine  authority.  For 

1  A  prominent  gentleman  in  Boston,  seeing  an  advertisement  of 
the  proposed  celebration  of  Lincoln's  edict  of  freedom  to  the  slave, 
January  1,  1863,  expressed  his  surprise  and  regret  to  the  author  of 
this  book,  who  was  one  of  the  committee,  adding  that  such  an  act 
might  be  a  millstone  upon  his  neck  in  future  times,  and  that  for  his 
own  part  he  would  not  for  ten  thousand  dollars  have  allowed  his  name 
to  be  coupled  with  an  abolition  jubilee.  This  was  the  general  feel 
ing  among  conservatives.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  a  meagre 
chorus  —  mostly  of  women  —  was  gathered  to  perform  the  musical 
part  of  the  services.  Letters  of  invitation  to  singers  were,  many  of 
them,  sent  back  to  the  committee  with  indignant  and  often  abusive 
comments.  So  far  was  Boston  from  being  a  liberty-loving  city  at  the 
time  when  the  shackles  fell  from  three  millions  of  men  !  It  may  be 
mentioned  that  the  celebration  was  eminently  successful,  excepting 
the  unbalanced  effects  of  the  chorus,  and  it  was  rendered  forever 
memorable  by  the  nigged  grandeur  of  Emerson's  "  Boston  Hymn," 
read  by  the  illustrious  author. 


156  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

an  abolitionist  to  assume  a  critical  attitude  in 
regard  to  the  "  Voices  "  would  be  as  hard  as  for 
a  Hebrew  to  find  fault  with  "  The  horse  and  his 
rider  "  or  "  By  the  rivers  of  Babylon."  It  will  be 
for  neither  of  the  parties  that  were  engaged  in  the 
long  and  momentous  struggle  to  decide  upon  the 
purely  poetical  merits  of  these  lyrics.  If  the  prime 
test  of  poetry  were  to  be  its  power  to  move  the 
heart,  there  could  be  but  one  opinion ;  but  we  must 
remember  that  impassioned  eloquence  (which  is 
not  necessarily  poetical)  does  the  same  thing. 
There  are  many  of  Whittier's  ringing  stanzas 
which  are  scarcely  more  than  rhymed  eloquence ; 
but,  judged  by  the  same  rule,  some  of  the  most 
stirring  passages  of  Byron  and  Dryden,  and  nearly 
all  the  heroic  verses  of  Pope,  come  into  the  same 
category. 

As  has  been  intimated,  the  remarkable  trait  in 
the  "  Voices  "  is  the  free,  powerful,  and  melodious 
movement.  The  lines  are  not  only  strongly  ac 
cented,  but  are  alive  with  rhythmical  feeling.  Evi 
dently  there  was  no  searching  for  words,  no  labor 
in  finding  assonances.  The  creative  faculty  com 
bined  and  fused  all  the  poet's  logic,  wit,  and  moral 
purpose,  and  poured  out  the  result  in  stanzas  that 
might  seem  to  have  been  spoken  into  being  as  by 
miracle.  They  are  whole,  perfect,  entire,  and  as  in- 


Voices  of  Freedom.  157 

capable  of  change  as  if  the  members  were  endowed 
with  life.  Or,  to  vary  the  simile,  the  stream  of 
song,  though  in  constant  flow,  has  the  changeless 
beauty  of  a  waterfall. 

With  one  more  observation  we  leave  this  part  of 
our  task.  In  certain  of  the  most  outspoken  of  the 
"Voices,"  such  as  "The  Pine-Tree,"  "Massachu 
setts  to  Virginia,"  "Texas,"  and  "The  Branded 
Hand,"  there  seems  to  prevail  a  spirit  which  is  not 
only  intense  but  fierce.  But  those  who  understand 
the  reality  of  the  danger  then  impending,  which 
was  the  entire  subjection  of  the  government  to  the 
Slave  Power,  will  not  only  pardon  but  applaud  the 
energy  with  which  the  momentous  issue  was  met. 
It  was  felt  by  all  far-seeing  men  to  be  a  question  of 
life  and  death ;  and  in  such  a  terrible  crisis  cour 
tesy  would  have  been  folly,  and  compliment  crime. 
It  was  a  combat  a  Voutrance. 

Criticism  is  usually  vague  to  every  one  but  the 
critic,  and  the  lightest  suggestion  of  shortcomings 
is  apt  to  be  taken  as  meaning  mn re  than  is  seen  at 
the  first  glance.  Particularly  is  it  so  in  these  days 
of  finical  refinement  in  style,  when  it  is  thought 
witty  and  "knowing"  to  let  a  subtle  undercurrent 
be  perceived,  quite  at  variance  with  the  superficial 
sense  of  tin-  words  employed.  The  result  is  to 
damn  in  the  most  honeyed  phrases,  or  to  praise  in 
a  way  to  leave  a  sting. 


158  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

That  it  may  be  clear  what  is  intended,  it  is  best 
to  observe  that  pure  poetry  is  the  rarest  of  prod 
ucts  ;  that  many  popular  poets  have  no  concep 
tion  of  what  poetry  is,  and  have  never  by  accident 
created  a  poetical  phrase ;  that  absolute  poetry 
is  generally  like  veins  of  gold  in  quartz,  —  seldom 
if  ever  seen  without  some  kind  of  admixture  ;  that 
in  the  works  of  the  greatest  poets  the  specimens 
of  pure  poetry  form  but  a  very  small  part  of  their 
bulk, —  probably  never  a  fifth,  often  less  than  a 
tenth.  With  this  limitation  in  view,  we  should 
say  that  the  "Voices"  are  less  purely  poetic  than 
the  best  contemplative  and  descriptive  pieces  of 
Whittier.  They  will  be  read  with  varied  feelings  ; 
they  will  be  fervently  admired  and  warmly  depre 
cated  ;  but  all  will  admit  that  in  "  The  Last  Walk 
in  Autumn,"  "  Evening  by  the  Lakeside,"  "  Amy 
Wentworth,"  and  many  others  that  might  be  named, 
there  is  a  higher  and  purer  poetic  inspiration. 

Still,  we  cannot  desire  that  even  one  of  the 
" Voices"  should  be  silenced.  They  were  uttered 
at  the  call  of  duty  and  encouraged  by  the  heavenly 
influences.  The  "  burden  "  was  upon  the  poet  as 
upon  the  prophets  of  the  Jews.  Whittier  never 
faltered  in  his  mission.  His  part  in  the  great  revo 
lution  is  now  historical,  and  after  its  triumphal  suc 
cess  he  can  look  back  with  more  than  satisfaction 
upon  the  results  he  aided  in  bringing  about. 


CHAPTER  XL 

FOUNDATIONS   OF  FAME. 

"  Moll  Pitcher."  —  Nahant.  —Buckingham's  "New  England  Mag- 
n/ine."  —  The  "Democratic  Review."  —  "Songs  of  Labor."  - 
"The  Bridal  of  Pennacook."  —  The  Ticknor  Edition  of  1843.  - 
" Supernaturalism  in  New  England." — "Memories"  and  their 
Significance.  —  The  Merrimac  River  and  its  Scenery.  —  "  Cas 
sandra  Southwick." 

II  AYING  devoted  as  much  space  as  could  be 
"  given  to  Whittier's  early  ant i-sl;i very  labors, 
it  is  necessary  to  return  to  his  purely  literary  work, 
beginning  with  the  year  1832.  Either  in  Hartford 
or  shortly  alter  his  return  to  Haverhill  he  wrote  a 
poem  entitled  "  Moll  Pitcher."  As  has  been  men 
tioned,  some  passages  of  this  work  had  appeared 
in  his  newspaper;  but  the  main  portions  of  the 
story  \\cre  new.  Moll  Pitcher  was  a  fortune-teller, 
famous  in  the  last  century,  who  lived  near  High 
Rock  in  Lynn,  Mass.  She  professed  to  derive  her 
auguries  from  the  appearance  of  tea-grounds.  The 
story  is  told  of  a  country  maiden  and  her  sailor 
lover,  and  covers  twenty-seven  pages  octavo  in 


160  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

pamphlet  form.1  It  is  dedicated  to  Dr.  Eli  Todd 
of  Hartford.  In  the  prefatory  note  Whittier  says 
it  was  "  written  during  a  few  weeks  of  such  leisure 
as  is  afforded  by  indisposition,  and  is  given  to  the 
world  in  all  its  original  negligence."  The  copy 
lent  to  the  author  bears  the  name  of  a  lifelong 
friend  of  Whittier,  written  in  a  delicately  beauti 
ful  hand.  The  poem  was  not  reprinted,  and  is  very 
scarce. 

The  "  New  England  Magazine "  for  May,  1832, 
contains  a  notice  of  this  poem,  including  admired 
specimens  of  its  versification ;  but  the  tone  of  com 
ment  is  not  generally  complimentary.  In  one  para 
graph  the  critic  reproves  Whittier  for  publishing  a 
poem  "  in  its  original  negligence  ; "  saying,  "  Why 
does  a  writer  who  is  competent  to  the  production 
of  elegant  and  perfect  verses,  &c.  ?  "  The  censure 
is  welcome  on  account  of  the  admission  that  at  this 
early  period,  before  any  of  Whittier's  poems  had 
been  gathered  from  a  fugitive  existence,  he  was 
recognized  as  a  maker  of  "  elegant  and  perfect 
verses."  We  give  a  short  descriptive  passage  to 
show  the  style  :  — 

"  Nahant,  thy  beach  is  beautiful !  — 

A  dim  line  through  the  tossing  waves, 
Along  whose  verge  the  spectre  gull 
Her  thin  and  snowy  plumage  laves, 

1  Carter  &  Hendee,  Boston,  1832. 


Foinnl<iti<m*  <>f  Fame,  161 

What  time  the  summer's  '_rreenne-s  lingers 

Within  thy  sunned  and  sheltered  nooks, 
And  the  irreen  \iin-  with  twining  lingers 

Creeps  up  and  down  thy  hanging  rocks. 
Around,  the  blue  and  level  main, 

Above,  a  -un-hine  rich  as  fell, 
Brightening  of  old  with  p>lden  rain, 

The  isle  Apollo  loved  so  well ;  — 
And  far  off,  dim  and  beautiful 
The  snow-white  sail  and  graceful  hull, 

Slow  dipping  to  the  billow's  swell." 

It  may  be  best  here  to  say  something  of  this 
ma'j-a/ine  and  of  Whittier's  contributions  to  it.  Its 
first  appearance  was  in  July,  1831,  and  it  was  con 
tinued  to  December,  1835,  comprising  nine  octavo 
volumes.  Joseph  T.  Buckingham  and  his  son  Kd- 
win  (afterwards  lost  at  sea)  were  the  first  editors. 
The  elder  Buckingham,  afterwards  editor  of  the 
"  Boston  Courier,"  was  the  one  to  whom  Lowell's 
first  series  of  "  Biglow  Papers "  was  addressed. 
John  0.  Sargent,  a  noted  journalist,  and  Dr.  S.  G. 
Howe,  the  philanthropist  and  educator  of  the  blind, 
succeeded  Mr.  Buckingham  at  the  beginning  of 
the  eighth  volume ;  but  they  soon  relinquished  the 
charge  to  Park  Benjamin,  a  writer  of  both  prose 
and  verse,  brother-in-law  of  the  historian  Motley. 
At  the  end  of  the  year  1835  the  periodical  came  to 
an  end, — having  been  "merged"  in  the  "Ameri 
can  Monthly  Magazine,"  of  New  York. 

11 


1 62  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

As  compensation  to  writers  was  out  of  the  ques 
tion,  the  contents  of  the  magazine  were  in  strange 
contrast.  Many  of  the  articles  read  like  themes  of 
undergraduates  and  the  moral  essays  of  budding 
clergymen.  But  in  the  midst  of  this  dulness  there 
were  auroral  gleams,  —  hints  of  future  possibilities. 
About  a  dozen  of  Holmes' s  beautiful  early  poems 
—  comic,  tender,  and  graceful  —  appeared  during 
the  first  two  years.  Longfellow  was  represented 
by  his  "  Coplas  de  Manrique."  Whittier  furnished 
four  prose  articles  and  seven  short  poems,  besides 
the  whole  of  "  Mogg  Megone."  There  were  also 
poems  by  Mrs.  Sigourney,  Miss  Hannah  F.  Gould, 
James  G.  Percival,  Dr.  F.  H.  Hedge,  Grenville  Mel- 
len,  John  Neal,  Isaac  McClellan,  Jr.,  and  Park  Ben 
jamin.  Alexander  H.  Everett  wrote  on  the  French 
Revolution,  and  Judge  Story  gave  a  fine  sketch  of 
Daniel  Webster.  But  most  interesting  of  all  are  the 
exquisite  early  stories  and  sketches  of  Hawthorne. 
Readers  of  the  "  Twice  Told  Tales  "  know  them  by 
heart :  the  most  original  and  subtile  productions 
in  the  literature  of  America.  It  makes  one  sad  to 
remember  that  those  labors  brought  to  the  author 
less  than  a  respectable  copyist  now  earns. 

The  magazine  was  printed  upon  dingy  paper  with 
dull,  small  type,  and  was  "  illustrated  "  by  the  worst 
(lithographic)  portraits  ever  seen.  The  portraits 


Found<tli<mx  of  Fame.  163 

an-  interestimr — in  fact  priceless  —  on  account  of 
their  associations ;  but  the  "  art "  gives  one  a  hu- 
iniliatin-j:  sensation.1 

No  intelligent  vit-u  of  Whit  tier's  life  and  labors 
can  !><•  irained  from  a  minute  and  diarist ic  account, 
Imt  ratlin-  I  iv  <r  rou  pi  mi-  events  and  productions  as 
they  are  related  to  each  other.  We  have  seen  that 
while  he  wrote  for  the  "New  England  Magazine" 
the  years  were  prolific  in  results.  The  anti-slavery 

1  As  the  volumes  of  this  magazine  are  extremely  scarce,  an  enu 
meration  of  Whittier's  contributions  is  given  :  — 

Powow  Hill,  a  prose  sketch,  vol.  ii.  p.  416,  May,  1832  ;  Passa- 
conaway,  a  prose  story,  vol.  iv.  p.  121  (1833)  ;  The  Opium  Eater, 
a  prose  disquisition,  vol.  iv.  p.  217  (1833)  ;  The  Female  Martyr,  a 
poem,  vol.  iv.  p.  322,  May,  1833  ;  Xe\v  Kn^land  Superstitions, 
prose,  with  a  poem  included,  vol.  v.,  July,  1833  ;  Stanzas,  an  Mina 
tory  poem,  vol.  v.  p.  141,  July,  1833  ;  Toussaint  1'Ouverture,  with 
prefatory  note,  vol.  v.  p.  368  ;  A  Lament,  "The  circle  is  broken, 
one  seat  is  forsaken,"  vol.  vi.  p.  238  (1834)  ;  Suicide  Pond,  voL  vi. 
p.  419  (1834)  ;  The  Demon  of  the  Study,  a  humorous  poem,  vol. 
viii.,  January,  1835  ;  To  Governor  McDuffie  (on  the  secessionist 
sentiments  in  his  inaugural  address),  vol.  viii.  p.  138,  February, 
1835  ;  Mogg  Megone,  first  part,  vol.  viii.,  March,  1835  ;  the  same, 
second  part,  vol.  viii.,  April,  1835. 

The  review  of  "Moll  Pitcher,"  before  mentioned,  is  in  vol.  ii. 
p.  441.  There  is  a  notice  of  "  The  Literary  Remains  of  John  G.  C. 
Brainerd,  with  a  Sketch  of  his  Life,  by  John  G.  Whittier,"  in  vol. 
iii.,  September,  1832. 

The  prose  articles  above  named  are  all  extremely  interesting  ; 
tliry  :irc  not  included  in  his  late  collected  works.  Of  the  poems, 
"The  Female  Martyr,"  "  Toussaint  1'Ouverture,"  "A  Lament," 
"The  Demon  of  the  Study,"  and  "Mogg  Megone"  have  been 
preserved. 


164  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

poems,  "  Voices  of  Freedom,"  mal^f  a  group  by 
themselves.  We  have  now  to  notice  his  writings 
in  the  "  Democratic  Review."  1  It  will  be  seen,  by 
referring  to  the  list,  that  this  was  an  important 
series  of  poems.  He  was  evidently  a  highly  valued 
contributor,  being  always  assigned  a  prominent 
place,  and  mentioned  always  with  respect  and  affec 
tion.  In  the  number  for  August,  1845,  there  is  a 
review  of  his  "  Stranger  in  Lowell,"  garnished  with 
quotations  of  great  length.  Much  as  he  was  ad 
mired  as  a  poet,  very  high  praise  is  given  him  for 
his  excellent  and  readable  prose.  A  further  proof 
of  the  esteem  in  which  he  was  held  was  furnished 
by  the  printing  of  the  "  Bridal  of  Pennacook  "  en- 

1  The  reader  may  be  pleased  to  see  the  list,  covering  a  period  of 
nearly  five  years  :  — 

Palestine,  October,  1837  ;  The  Familist's  Hymn,  January,  1838  ; 
Pentucket,  April,  1838  ;  Democracy,  December,  1841  ;  Follen,  Sep 
tember,  1842 ;  Poems  on  Capital  Punishment,  October,  1842  ; 
Eaphael,  December,  1842  ;  To  the  Reformers  of  England,  January, 
1843  ;  Cassandra  Southwick,  March,  1843  ;  The  Human  Sacrifice, 
May,  1843;  Hampton  Beach,  August,  1843  ;  New  England  Super- 
naturalism,  September,  October,  and  November,  1843  ;  The  New 
Wife  and  the  Old,  October,  1843;  Channing,  January,  1844;  Eze- 
kiel,  May,  1844;  The  Bridal  of  Pennacook,  complete,  June,  1845 
(a  part  had  been  printed  in  September,  1844);  Gone  ("Another 
hand,"  &c.)>  March,  1845  ;  Songs  of  Labor  :  The  Shoemaker,  July, 
1845  ;  The  Fisherman,  October,  1845  ;  The  Lumberman,  Decem 
ber,  1845  ;  The  Ship-Builder,  April,  1846  (the  other  Songs  of 
Labor  appeared  in  the  "National  Era");  To  Ronge,  March,  1846  ; 
James  Naylor  (prose  sketch),  March,  1846. 


Foundation*  of  Fame.  165 

tire  in  June,  1845,  when  half  of  it  had  already 
appeared  in  September,  1844.  The  second  part 
was  lost  for  nine  months  in  the  United  States 
mail,  and  it  is  not  believed  that  the  poet  had  kept 
a  copy.  The  scries  of  papers  on  "The  Supernat- 
uralism  of  New  England"  was  published  in  a  vol 
ume  in  New  York  and  London  in  1847.  If  we  are 
not  in  error,  every  prominent  work  of  Whittier, 
whether  in  poetry  or  prose,  was  repuhlished  by 
some  one,  with  or  without  permission,  as  being  of 
permanent  value. 

It  may  be  said  here,  once  for  all,  that  to  trace 
all  of  Whittier's  poems  to  their  original  publication 
is  utterly  impossible.  There  was  a-  collection  of 
anti-slavery  poems,  including  a  number  by  Whittier, 
published  in  Philadelphia  in  a  volume  entitled  the 
"  North  Star."  "  The  Prisoner  for  Debt "  appeared 
in  the  u  Boston  Pearl "  (either  an  annual  or  a  liter 
ary  magazine,  edited  by  Isaac  C.  Pray,  Jr.).  "  The 
Fountain  "  appeared  in  the  "  New  York  Mirror ; " 
44  Massachusetts,"  in  the  "  Emancipator  ;  "  and  a 
large  number  of  the  "  Voices,"  and  other  poems,  in 
the  "Liberator."  Many  more  were  published  in 
the  "Gazette"  of  Haverhill,  as  has  been  already 
stated.  The  most  that  could  be  done  was  to  ex 
amine  files  of  periodicals  to  which  it  is  known 
he  was  a  contributor;  but  a  large  number  remain 


1 66  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

concerning  whose  origin  nothing  can  be  known  at 
present. 

A  small  collection  was  made  in  1843,  embracing 
some  of  the  poems  written  for  the  magazine  and 
the  review  mentioned,  and  was  published  under  the 
title  of  "  Lays  of  my  Home,  and  other  Poems,"  by 
W.  D.  Ticknor.  This  little  volume  is  now  scarce, 
and  its  very  existence  has  been  doubted.  The  dedi 
cation  is  to  John  Pierpont,  the  brilliant  and  eccen 
tric  preacher  and  poet,  and  is  preserved  in  the 
later  complete  edition.  The  reader  will  be  sur 
prised  to  find  what  a  number  of  established  favor 
ites  belong  to  this  comparatively  early  period.1 
Some  of  them  are  remarkable  for  their  poetic  in 
sight,  and  all  bear  the  immortal  imprimatur,  which 
neither  king  nor  chancellor  could  bestow.  Some 
have  a  certain  autobiographic  tone, — the  "leaves  of 
memory  "  making  "  a  mournful  rustle  in  the  dark." 

1  Lays  of  my  Home,  and  other  Poems  :  W.  D.  Ticknor,  1843. 
Dedicated  to  John  Pierpont  :  "  Not  as  a  poor  requital  of  the  joy," 
&c.,  dated  at  Amesbury,  May  10,  1843. 

CONTENTS.  —  The  Merrimac  ;  The  Norsemen  ;  Cassandra  South- 
wick  ;  Funeral  Tree  of  the  Sokokis  ;  St.  John  ;  Lines  written  in  the 
Book  of  a  Friend  ;  Lucy  Hooper  ;  Follen  ;  To  a  Friend  on  her  Return 
from  Europe  ;  Raphael  ;  Democracy  ;  Poems  on  Capital  Punishment ; 
The  Human  Sacrifice  ;  The  Cypress-Tree  of  Ceylon  ;  Chalkley  Hall ; 
To  the  Reformers  of  England  ;  Massachusetts  to  Virginia  ;  Leggett's 

Monument  ;  To with  Woolman's  Journal  ;  Memories  ;  The 

Demon  of  the  Study ;  The  Relic  ;  Extract  from  a  New  England 
Legend. 


Foundations  of  Fame.  167 

The  poem  called  "  Memories  "  is  one  that  shows  a 
en-tain  unspeakable  tenderness,  belonging  only  to 
the  time  of  glowing  youth.  It  would  not  be  dim- 
cult,  perhaps,  to  frame  a  scholium  on  the  implied 
propositions  ;  but  such  things  arc  better  unsaid,  — 
laid  away  in  old  receptacles  with  tin1  dried  rosebuds. 
We  may  imagine,  ho\\e\er.  that  a  touching  romance 
is  buried  beneath  the  sweet  and  sad  inscription. 

"  How  thrills  once  more  the  lengthening  chain 

Of  memory,  at  the  thought  of  thee  1 
Old  hopes  which  long  in  dust  have  lain, 
Old  dreams  come  thronging  back  again, 

And  boyhood  lives  again  in  me  ; 
I  feel  its  glow  upon  my  cheek, 

Its  fulness  of  the  heart  is  mine, 
As  when  I  leaned  to  hear  thee  speak, 

Or  raised  my  doubtful  eye  to  thine. 

"  I  hear  again  thy  low  replies, 

I  feel  thine  arm  within  my  own, 
And  timidly  again  uprise 
The  fringed  lids  of  hazel  eyes, 

With  soft  brown  tresses  overblown. 
Ah,  memories  of  sweet  summer  eves, 

Of  moonlit  wave  and  willowy  way, 
Of  stars  and  flowers,  and  dewy  leaves, 

And  smiles  and  tones  more  dear  than  they  1 

"  Ere  this,  thy  quiet  eye  hath  smiled 
My  picture  of  thy  youth  to  see, 

Wlu-n.  half  a  woman,  half  a  child, 
Thy  very  artk-ssness  beguiled, 

And  folly's  self  seemed  wise  in  thee ; 


1 68  John  Greenleaf  Wkittier. 

I  too  can  smile  when  o'er  that  hour 

The  lights  of  memory  backward  stream, 

Yet  feel  the  while  that  manhood's  power 
Is  vainer  than  my  boyhood's  dream. 

"  Yet  hath  thy  spirit  left  on  me 

An  impress  Time  hath  worn  not  out, 
A  something  of  myself  in  thee, 
A  shadow  from  the  past,  I  see, 

Lingering  even  yet  thy  way  about ; 
Not  wholly  can  the  heart  unlearn 

That  lesson  of  its  better  hours, 
Nor  yet  has  Time's  dull  footstep  worn 

To  common  dust  that  path  of  flowers. 

Thus  while  at  times  before  our  eyes 

The  shadows  melt,  and  fall  apart, 
And,  smiling  through  them,  round  us  lies 
The  warm  light  of  our  morning  skies,  — 

The  Indian  Summer  of  the  heart,  — 
In  secret  sympathies  of  mind, 

In  founts  of  feeling  which  retain 
Their  pure,  fresh  flow,  we  yet  may  find 

Our  early  dreams  not  wholly  vain  !  " 

The  pictures  which  this  charming  poem  conjures 
up  are  sacred ;  but  if  in  all  Whittier's  verse  there 
had  been  no  expression  of  the  pure  and  holy  love 
of  woman,  such  as  we  see  here,  how  dreary  would 
have  been  his  life !  Who  has  not  truly  loved 
has  not  truly  lived.  Whittier's  Dr.  Singletary  per 
haps  means  more  than  he  utters  in  his  remarks  on 
Horace :  — 


Foundation*  of  Fame.  169 

"Ah,  EMcr  Staples,  there  was  a  time  when  the  Lyces 
and  Glyceras  of  the  poet  were  no  fiction  to  us.  They 
plavrd  hlind-maii's-lmu"  with  us  in  tin-  t'anm'r's  kitchen, 
sang  with  us  in  the  meeting-house,  and  romped  and 

laughed  with  us  at  huskings  and  quilting  parties." 

"  The  Mcrrimac,"  in  this  early  edition,  is  the 
precursor  of  many  poems  upon  the  scenery  and  the 
historic  associations  of  the  noble  river.  Readers 
will  remember  "  The  Bridal  of  Pennacook,"  "  The 
Laurels,"  "  Sewall's  Prophecy,"  "The  Exiles," 
«  Pentucket,"  «  The  Swan  Song  of  Parson  Avery," 
and  many  others. 

Burns  and  Scott  have  made  the  Ayr  and  the 
Tweed  and  the  Scotch  mountains  as  classic  as  the 
Ilissus,  Olympus,  and  Ida ;  Wordsworth's  spirit 
still  haunts  the  lakes  and  hills  of  Cumberland ; 
Uryunt  rejoiced  in  the  Berkshire  Hills  ;  but  no  poet 
has  more  fully  identified  himself  with  the  beauty 
of  nature  in  the  region  of  his  birth  than  Whittier. 

The  Merrimac  is  a  worthy  subject  for  song.  It 
receives  the  flow  of  springs  and  the  melting  of 
mountain  snows  in  the  middle  district  of  New 
Hampshire,  including  the  overflow  from  its  chief 
lake,  Winnepesaukee,  and  from  the  streams  of  the 
Pemigewasset  valley ;  it  traverses  the  deep  grassy 
meadows  near  Concord,  studded  with  native  elms, 
that  stand  like  slender,  flaring  Etruscan  vases ;  it 


170  John  Greenkaf  Whittier. 

is  perplexed  for  a  time  in  the  rapids  of  Suncook 
and  Hookset,  until  it  comes  in  view  of  the  rounded 
loveliness  of  the  twin  Unacanoonucs,  —  "  woman's 
breasts,"  in  the  Indian  tongue,  —  and  then  dashes 
down  the  wild  rocky  cascades  of  Amoskeag,  where 
now  are  the  enormous  factory  piles  of  Manchester. 
From  this  point  its  course  is  through  scenes  of  tran 
quil  beauty,  always  in  green  meadows  and  under 
green  trees,  until  it  successively  falls  at  Nashua, 
Lowell,  and  Lawrence,  turning  laborious  wheels, 
and  thence  flows  without  hindrance,  except  for  an 
occasional  island,  past  Haverhill,  Newbury,  and 
Amesbury,  and  separates  Newburyport  and  Salis 
bury  as  it  reaches  Ipswich  Bay. 

Geologists  term  it  a  mountain  trough;  and  at 
the  outset,  before  the  current  becomes  polluted  by 
the  dyes  and  refuse  of  mills,  the  water  is  pure 
crystal.  Above  Lowell  the  water-bed  is  compara 
tively  narrow,  and  the  immediate  banks  are  but 
little  raised ;  although  elevations  (often  of  sand  and 
gravel)  on  either  side  testify  to  the  force  of  the 
waters  in  remote  periods.  But  below  the  last  falls 
the  river-bed  is  wider  and  the  banks  stretch  out  on 
either  hand.  The  tourist,  whether  he  follows  the 
road  on  the  north  or  the  south  side,  will  find  him 
self  on  a  high  ridge,  with  a  wide  valley  between  him 
and  the  actual  bank  of  the  river;  and,  looking 


Foundations  of  Fame.  171 

across  to  the  corresponding  elevation,  he  will  see 
that  the  whole  basin  is  frequently  more  than  ;i 
in ile  in  width.  It  is  ample  for  the  scene  of  a  new 
Vision  of  Mirza. 

The  unusual  breadth  of  the  valley  is  due  to  the 
action  of  glaciers,  moving  seaward  in  remote  times, 
blocking  the  waters  and  grinding  their  way.  The 
entire  lower  part  of  the  river-bed  and  valley,  from 
Pentucket  Falls,  is  full  of  the  wreckage  of  the 
ancient  rocks  torn  from  their  beds  during  the 
glacial  period.  But  Nature  has  been  repairing 
the  ravages,  and  covering  the  abraded  surfaces  of 
the  hills  with  beautiful  trees  and  soft,  turfy  coats, 
—  forming  the  roches  moutonnees,  as  the  hills 
rounded  in  the  glacial  period  are  termed. 

Tin -so  were  in  Whittier's  mind  when  he  wrote 
"  The  Prophecy  of  Samuel  Sewall :  "  — 

"  The  hills  of  Xewbury  rolling  away, 
With  the  many  tints  of  the  season  gay, 
Dreamily  blending  in  autumn  mist 
Crimson,  and  gold,  and  amethyst. 

Inland,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  go, 
The  hills  curve  round  like  a  Ix-nded  bow; 
A  silver  arrow  from  out  them  sprung, 
I  see  the  shine  of  the  Quasycung." 1 

1  "  Quascacunquen  is  allowed  by  the  Court  to  be  a  plantation  " 
(Colonial  Records  of  Massachusetts,  May  6,  1635).  Quascacunquen 
was  the  Indian  name  of  the  river  Parker,  which  empties  into  the 


172  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Further  references  will  be  made  to  the  tributary 
streams  and  the  scenery  of  the  river  valley  in  the 
course  of  the  work. 

Mention  should  be  made  of  a  few  of  the  other 
poems  in  the  edition  of  1843.  "  To  a  Friend  on  her 
Return  from  Europe,"  written  in  a  gay,  lilting 
measure,  and  full  of  bright  images,  has  long  been 
a  favorite.  "  Follen  "  commemorates  the  author's 
friend,  Charles  Follen,  an  eminent  theologian  and 
scholar,  for  a  time  professor  at  Harvard  College, 
lost  in  the  burning  of  the  steamboat  "  Lexington," 
in  1840.  The  absorbing  interest  of  the  poem  is, 
however,  less  in  the  portrait  of  the  friend  than  in 
the  keen  and  steady  view  of  his  immortal  existence. 
The  lines  bring  us  face  to  face  with  the  last  and 
deepest  problem  of  life,  so  that  we  seem  looking 
with  our  own  eyes  into 

"  The  sphere  that  keeps 
The  disembodied  spirits  of  the  dead." 

The  words  are  earnest  and  solemn,  poured  out 
from  a  full  heart,  and  with  the  simplicity  that  be 
nts  the  theme.  Justly,  this  must  be  regarded  as 
among  Whittier's  noblest  poems,  —  an  evidence  of 
his  spiritual  convictions  and  his  generous  sympa- 

Merrimac.  The  plantation  was  established  under  the  name  of 
Newbury,  where  lived  the  ancestors  of  the  poets  Longfellow  and 
Lowell. 


Foundations  of  Fame.  173 

thy.  and  of  his  art  of  making  readers  think  them 
selves  sharers  in  his  creative  power. 

There  is  a  poem  by  Bryant  entitled  "  The  Future 
Life,"  which  resembles  this  of  Whittier's.  It  has 
the  same  quality  of  leading  us  to  look  into  the 
dread  beyond  ;  and  it  is  often  cited  as  a  proof  of 
Bryant's  sensibility  and  capacity  for  affection. 

"  Cassandra  Southwick,"  a  ballad  founded  on  the 
persecution  of  the  early  Quakers,  is  widely  known 
and  deservedly  admired.1 

It  is  full  of  heart-beats,  because  full  of  that 
imagination  which  puts  the  reader  at  once  in  the 
place  of  the  brave  Quaker  girl.  We  feel  "  the 
damp  earth-floor  "  of  her  cell  and  look  through  the 
grated  casement  white  with  frost.  We  recall  with 
her  the  beautiful  past,  and  shrink  from  the  coming 
shame.  We  walk  with  her  through  the  streets,  a 
prisoner,  —  feeling,  rather  than  seeing,  all  eyes 

1  The  story  is  given  in  the  Mussey  edition  of  1847,  substantially 
as  follows  :  A  son  and  daughter  of  Lawrence  Southwick  of  Salem, 
Mass.,  who  had  himself  been  imprisoned  and  deprived  of  his  property 
for  having  entertained  two  Quakers  in  his  house,  were  fined  £10 
each  for  non-attendance  at  church,  a  sum  which  they  were  unable  to 
pay.  The  General  Court  issued  an  order  signed  by  Edward  Rawson, 
secretary,  by  which  tin-  treasurer  was  "fully  empowered  to  sell  the 
said  persons  to  any  of  the  English  nation  at  Virginia  or  Barbailm-s, 
to  answer  said  fines."  An  attempt  was  made  to  carry  into  execution 
this  barbarous  order,  but  no  shipmaster  was  found  willing  to  convey 
them  to  the  West  Indies. 


174  J°hn  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

upon  her.  Coming  to  the  water's  edge,  we  look 
with  her  at  the  shipping. 

"  The  merchant-ships  lay  idly  there,  in  hard  clear  lines  on 

high, 

Tracing  with  rope  and  slender  spar  their  network  on  the 
sky." 

We  behold  the  "  dark  and  haughty  Endicott,"  and 
note  the  "  wine-empurpled  cheek  "  of  Rawson,  the 
clerk.  Her  sudden  rebuke  of  the  priest  startles 
us,  but  with  a  sympathetic  glow. 

"  The  Lord  rebuke  thee,  thou  smiter  of  the  meek, 
Thou  robber  of  the  righteous,  thou  trampler  of  the  weak !  " 

Then  the  captains  hesitate  and  are  silent ;  no  one 
offers  to  buy  or  to  transport  her.     We  listen  to  the 
gentle  words  of  the  manly  spokesman  :  — 
"  God  bless  thee,  and  preserve  thee,  my  gentle  girl  and  dear !  " 

Then  comes  his  thundering  answer  to  the  magis 
trates  (and  he  is  to  be  pardoned  for  the  high  swell 
ing  words  which  his  tumultuous  wrath  dictates)  :  — 

"  Pile  my  ship  with  bars  of  silver,  —  pack  with  coins  of  Span 
ish  gold, 

From  keel-piece  up  to  deck-plank,  the  roomage  of  her  hold ; 

By  the  living  God  who  made  me  !  —  I  would  sooner  in  your 
bay 

Sink  ship  and  crew  and  cargo,  than  bear  this  child  away ! " 

Can  we  wonder,  after  this  release,  that  all  nature 
sympathizes  in  her  joy  and  gratitude  ! 


Foundations  of  Fame.  175 

Oh,  at  that  hour  tin;  very  rarth  si-i/mi-il  changed  beneath  my 


A  holier  wonder  round  me  rose  the  blue  walls  of  the  sky, 
A  lovelier  light  on  rock  and  hill,  and  stream  and  woodland 

lay, 
And  softer  lapsed  on  sunnier  sands  the  waters  of  the  bay." 

Those  who  have  pondered  over  the  letters  and 
journals  of  Quakers  under  bonds  and  stripes  and  in 
exile  will  feel  how  perfectly  Whitticr  has  repro 
duced  the  simple  yet  heroic  trust  in  God  which  was 
the  glory  of  so  many  sufferers  and  martyrs. 

The  regions  personally  known  to  Whitticr,  at 
least  those  particularly  referred  to  in  his  verse, 
include  the  eastern  portions  of  Massachusetts  and 
Rhode  Island,  the  southeastern  part  of  New  Hamp 
shire,  and  the  coast  of  Maine.  We  can  see  that 
his  feet  have  trodden  the  fields  he  describes.  Two 
of  the  poems  in  the  edition  of  1843  show  us  that 
the  knowledge  of  Maine  especially  was  gained  in 
early  life.  The  first,  the  ballad  of  "  St.  John," 
recalls  the  strife  for  mastery  of  the  coast  between 
the  Protestants  under  La  Tour  and  the  Catholics 
under  D'Aulney,  two  French  noblemen,  whose 
names  are  frequently  to  be  met  with  in  the  colo 
nial  records  of  Massachusetts.  This  ballad  forms 
one  of  the  most  striking  pictures  of  the  far  distant 
time  when  Huguenot  and  Royalist  waged  war  for 
existence.  Its  martial  character  is  the  more  re- 


176  John  Cfreenleaf  Whittier. 

markable  on  account  of  its  paternity  ;  the  phrases 
ring  as  if  the  maker  had  himself  heard  the  clang 
of  steel.  It  is  bright  with  points  of  local  allusion, 
swift  in  energetic  movement,  and  teeming  with  fire. 
The  other  poem  with  strong  local  coloring  is 
"The  Funeral  Tree  of  the  Sokokis."  In  many 
poems  one  feels  as  if  the  descriptions  were  done  as 
those  in  guide-books  are,  by  a  mere  enumeration  of 
details.  It  is  only  a  true  poet  that  vitalizes  adjec 
tives  and  epithets,  and  forms  pictures  that  are  im 
perishable.  It  is  not  the  number  of  productions 
that  are  needed  to  establish  the  right  of  the  poet : 
a  single  stanza  is  enough.  The  scenery  of  the  Saco, 
which  is  often  grand  and  always  impressive  even 
now,  in  spite  of  the  ravages  of  lumbermen,  becomes 
solemn  and  magnificent  in  Whittier' s  verse,  where 
in  we  see  it  restored  to  its  primitive  loneliness. 
Such  stanzas  as  these  carry  their  own  weight :  — 

"  The  sun  looks  o'er,  with  hazy  eye, 
The  snowy  mountain-tops  which  lie 
Piled  coldly  up  against  the  sky. 

"  Yet  green  are  Saco's  banks  below, 
And  belts  of  spruce  and  cedar  show, 
Dark  fringing  round  those  cones  of  snow. 

"  Fresh  grasses  fringe  the  meadow-brooks, 
And  mildly  from  its  sunny  nooks 
The  blue  eye  of  the  violet  looks. 


Foundations  of  Fame.  177 

"  Deem  yo  that  mother  loveth  less 
These  bronzed  forms  of  the  wilderness 
She  f oldeth  in  her  long  caress  ? 

"  As  sweet  o'er  them  her  wild  flowers  blow, 
As  if  with  fairer  hair  and  brow 
The  blue-eyed  Saxon  slept  below." 

It  will  be  seen  that  Whit-tier  has  not  limited  his 
sympathies  to  oppressed  Africans  nor  even  to  his 
own  persecuted  people  :  his  generous  spirit  takes 
in  the  whole  of  suffering  humanity.  The  wrongs 
of  the  Indians  are  often  dwelt  upon  by  him ;  the 
prisoner  for  debt  has  a  share  of  his  pity,  and  with 
all  his  energy  he  has  protested  against  capital  pun 
ishment  for  crime.  These  traits  have  been  exhib 
ited  from  the  first  until  now.  The  anti-slavery 
poems  in  the  edition  of  1843  are  few,  but  in  fair 
proportion  to  the  whole.  Surely  this  little  book 
was  one  full  of  promise,  had  there  been  unpreju 
diced  eyes  to  read.  If  our  later  time  has  witnessed 
such  a  beginning,  —  has  heard  such  free,  melodious, 
natural,  and  fresh  verse  from  any  of  the  advancing 
generation,  —  we  do  not  remember  it. 


12 


CHAPTER  XII. 


PROGRESS. 

The  "National  Era,"  its  Eminent  Contributors  and  its  Influence.  — 
Ninety  Poems  by  Whittier.  —  "  Margaret  Smith's  Journal."  — 
"  Old-  Portraits."  —  The  Mussey  Edition  of  Whittier's  Poems.  — 
"The  Chapel  of  the  Hermits." 


rriHE  "  National  Era  "  was  established  at  the  seat 
of  government  in  1847,  and  became  one  of 
the  leading  organs  of  the  anti-slavery  party.  Dr. 
Gamaliel  Bailey,  the  editor,  was  a  man  of  literary 
predilections  and  good  taste,  and  wise  enough  to 
understand  the  importance  of  securing  for  himself 
and  the  cause  the  aid  of  the  best  writers.  Whittier 
was  engaged  as  assistant  or  corresponding  editor, 
and  the  connection  lasted  until  the  end  of  the  year 
1859.  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  appeared  in  this 
paper  as  a  serial  in  1850.  The  sisters  Alice  and 
Phoebe  Cary,  and  Lucy  Larcom,  contributed  many 
poems  ;  Grace  Greenwood  wrote  many  bright  and 
witty  articles,  and,  later,  the  brilliant  Gail  Hamil 
ton  gave  her  aid.  Altogether,  the  files  of  this  paper 


Progress.  1 79 

arc  exceedingly  interesting,  and  will  reward  the 
student  of  onr humanitarian  literature.  In  the  first 
number  (January  7,  1847)  appeared  "  Randolph  of 
Roanoke,"  one  of  the  finest  and  most  feeling  of  all 
AVhittier's  political  ])oems.  Admiration  and  regret 
are  seen  struggling  for  mastery,  and  the  result  is 
a  powerful  portrait  of  a  most  remarkable  man. 
Above  eighty  of  Whittier's  poems  are  contained  in 
the  files  of  this  paper  (from  1847  to  1859),  and  in 
number,  power,  variety,  and  interest  they  exceed 
any  series,  except,  perhaps,  that  contributed  to  the 
"  Atlantic  Monthly."  Readers  will  remember  "  Bar 
clay  of  Ury,"  "The  Angels  of  Buena  Vista,"  "The 
Curse  of  the  Charter  Breakers,"  "  Summer  by  the 
Lakeside,"  "  Burns,"  "  Ichabod,"  "  The  Hermit  of 
the  Thebaid,"  "Mary  Garvin,"  "Maud  Muller," 
"The  Garrison  of  Cape  Ann,"  "Tauler,"  "Our 
State,"  "The  Kansas  Emigrants,"  and  "The 
AV  it  eh's  Daughter."  A  list  of  these  poems  (reason 
ably  complete)  will  be  found  in  the  Appendix. 

The  reader  should  bear  in  mind  that  neither  the 
political  nor  the  purely  literary  works  of  Whittier 
are  capable  of  separation  into  periods.  He  always 
had  many  irons  in  the  fire.  His  contributions  to  the 
inaira/.ines,  already  noticed,  were  parallel  with  his 
anti-slavery  labors,  and  his  jtoeins  as  well  as  jm»r 
articles  were  widely  distributed.  The  "Liberator." 


180  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

the  "  Emancipator,"  and  the  "  Anti-slavery  Stand 
ard  "  contain  his  original  poems,  written  during  the 
same  period  with  those  in  the  "  Era ; "  and  as  he 
and  his  seem  to  have  been  "  common  property,"  his 
poems  frequently  appear  in  more  than  one  paper 
without  acknowledgment,  rendering  it  doubtful  for 
which  it  was  originally  written.  Whatever  he  wrote 
was  sure  to  appear  in  each  of  the  papers  named,  at 
one  time  or  another.  But  from  the  time  he  began 
to  write  for  the  "  Era  "  his  contributions  were  less 
scattered  ;  the  other  anti-slavery  papers  generally 
copied  them  as  "  from  the  '  Era.'  "  For  several 
years  he  may  be  said  to  have  written  almost  exclu 
sively  for  that  paper ;  although  it  will  be  seen  here 
after  that  after  the  establishment  of  the  "  Atlantic," 
in  1857,  a  larger  number  of  his  poems  went  to  that 
magazine. 

Numerous  as  are  his  poems  in  the  "  Era,"  the 
bulk  of  his  labor  was  done  in  prose.  The  series  of 
biographical  sketches  entitled  "  Old  Portraits,"  and 
a  number  of  the  papers  in  "  Literary  Recreations," 
appeared  first  in  the  "  Era."  But  beyond  ques 
tion  his  most  able  and  fortunate  prose  work  during 
that  connection  was  "  Margaret  Smith's  Journal," 
reprinted  by  Ticknor,  Reed,  &  Fields  in  1849. 

This  is  properly  an  historical  novel,  and  belongs  to 
the  class  of  which  "  The  Household  of  Sir  Thomas 


Progress.  \  8 1 

More,"  "The  Maiden  and  Married  Life  of  Mary 
IWell,  afterwards  Mistress  Milton,"  and  "The 
Artist's  Married  Life,  being  that  of  Albert  Durer," 
are  eminent  examples.  The  novel  has  been  con 
siderably  developed  since  the  time  of  Boccaccio,  and 
the  name  has  come  to  mean  a  something  far  more 
complex  and  exciting.  To  the  modern  reader, 
"  Margaret  Smith's  Journal "  is  hardly  a  novel  at 
all,  but  only  a  series  of  sketches  of  character,  man 
ners,  and  scenery,  done  in  an  antique  style.  The 
real  excellence  of  the  work  will  not  be  perceived 
by  readers  of  Gaboriau,  Dumas,  and  Victor  Hugo  ; 
palates  burned  by  peppery  condiments  do  not  wel 
come  simple  flavors.  But  for  those  who  know  well 
the  early  history  of  the  Colony,  the  personages  that 
figure  in  it,  and  the  prevailing  ideas  and  customs, 
this  unpretending  Journal  will  have  a  singular  and 
enduring  charm.  The  history  of  this  or  of  any 
other  colony  is  not  to  be  gained  alone  from  formal 
annals ;  it  comes  from  personal  knowledge  of  the 
scenes,  from  a  study  of  institutions  and  laws,  from 
familiarity  with  actual  letters,  journals,  and  me 
moirs,  and  from  the  traditions  told  at  ancient  fire 
sides.  There  are  students  of  history  who  could 
swear  to  the  genuineness  of  the  signatures  of  any  of 
the  fathers  of  the  Colony  ;  who  could  mark  out  the 
daily  routine  of  the  preacher  or  magistrate,  or  of 


1 82  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

his  spouse  ;  who  could  dress  an  historical  figure, 
from  his  peaked  hat  to  his  stout  shoes ;  who  could 
spread  his  board  in  imagination,  could  repeat  or 
sing  his  psalms,  and  number  all  the  books  in  his 
scanty  library.  To  a  man  who  has  a  smack  of  the 
tastes  of  an  antiquary,  there  is  no  more  delightful 
book  than  "  Margaret  Smith's  Journal."  It  is  not 
oppressively  learned  nor  archaic  ;  the  fair  journalist 
is  not  a  Quaker  nor  other  sectary,  but  a  good 
Church-of-England  woman,  so  that  it  is  a  view 
from  without,  —  free  and  uncircumscribed.  There 
is  a  slender  thread  of  story,  enough  for  the  sense  of 
continuity.  The  style  is  perfect  for  the  intended 
purpose,  though  it  is  far  less  rigid  or  crabbed  than 
the  usual  specimens  of  the  time.  Secretary  Rawson, 
Sir  Christopher  Gardiner,  Judge  Samuel  Sewall, 
Robert  Pike,  Richard  Saltonstall,  Rev.  Mr.  Ward, 
"  the  Simple  Cobler  of  Aggawam,"  Eliot  the  apostle, 
Cotton  Mather,  Simon  Bradstreet,  and  many  others 
are  seen  in  the  narrative  by  turns,  and  are  trans 
figured  by  the  light  of  genius.  Their  conversation 
is  separately,  vitally  characteristic  ;  and  every  de 
tail  is  in  such  perfect  keeping  that  the  illusion 
grows  and  time  and  distance  are  forgotten.  There 
is  surely  no  parallel  to  this  book  in  our  prose  litera 
ture  of  the  United  States ;  but  to  enjoy  it  one  must 
be  prepared  by  some  knowledge,  and  must  own  the 


Progress.  183 

kindred  taste  for  a  chastened  view  of  life,  and  for 
the  beauty  to  be  seen  in  humble  and  familiar 
things  ;  to  such  a  reader  the  enjoyment  is  unspeak 
able. 

It  should  be  added  that  the  religious  questions  in 
which  (lie  Colonists  were  so  deeply  interested  are 
treated  with  candor,  and  yet  with  an  almost  touch 
ing  delicacy.  Margaret  herself  cannot  sympathize 
greatly  with  the  exalted  feeling  and  the  strained  de 
meanor  of  those  who  were,  according  to  the  point 
of  view,  fanatics  or  martyrs  ;  but  she  manifests  a 
M\<(t  courtesy,  not  to  say  pity,  for  those  who  in 
curred  ecclesiastic  and  secular  penalties  for  follow 
ing  the  dictates  of  conscience. 

Numerous  poems  are  interspersed,  some  of  them 
in  imitation  of  the  labored  and  pedantic  style  of 
Wi  LI-- Ics  \vorth  and  Mrs.  Anne  Bradstreet,  others 
modern  and  beautiful.  Two  of  them  are  in  the 
eomplete  volume,  —  "  Autumn  Thoughts  "  and  the 
ballad  "  Kathleen." 

There  was  a  collection  of  Whittier's  poems  made 
in  1849,  and  published  by  B.  B.  Mussey  &  Co.  in  a 
large  and  handsome  octavo  volume,  with  illustra 
tions  on  steel  by  H.  Billings.  Mr.  Mussey  was  a 
prominent  Free-Soiler,  had  presided  at  a  State  con 
vention  of  the  party,  and  took  pride  in  the  reputa 
tion  of  the  poet  of  freedom.  It  was  the  first  time 


184  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

that  Whittier's  poems  had  been  clothed  in  a  man 
ner  suitable  to  their  intrinsic  worth.  This  appeared 
to  be  a  step  in  advance,  but  the  connection  did  not 
last  many  years.  Mr.  Mussey  died  about  the  year 
1855,  and  the  plates  were  purchased  and  transferred 
to  Messrs.  Ticknor  &  Fields.  The  Mussey  edi 
tion  contained  a  few  poems  which  have  since  been 
dropped ;  but  the  bulk  of  them  are  now  in  the  stand 
ard  edition,  unchanged.  It  may  be  observed,  how 
ever,  that  in  regard  to  historical  and  topographical 
notes  the  Mussey  edition  was  more  satisfactory.  It 
must  be  an  error  of  judgment  to  leave  such  poems 
as  "  St.  John  "  without  a  note  to  guide  the  reader. 
How  many  persons,  even  among  the  educated,  know 
enough  of  the  contest  between  La  Tour  and  D'Aul- 
ney  in  1647  on  the  eastern  coast,  to  feel  the  signifi 
cance  of  this  stirring  ballad?  Very  few,  we  im 
agine.  And  how  many  readers  of  poetry  know  what 
a  "  Familist "  was,  or  that  Samuel  Gorton  of  the 
Massachusetts  Colony  was  the  man  intended  ?  And 
even  as  to  later  events  it  should  be  remembered  that 
the  beginning  of  the  anti-slavery  struggle  is  back  of 
the  memory  of  the  younger  generation,  and  it  will 
not  be  many  years  before  all  the  political  poems  of 
Whittier  will  need  annotation.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  at  no  distant  day  there  will  be  an  ampler  edi 
tion  of  the  poems,  with  full  explanatory  notes ;  and 


Progress.  185 

if,  further,  it  could  be  graced  with  artistic  pictures 
of  tin1  various  scenes  described,  it  would  be  a  treas 
ure  to  all  lovers  of  poetry. 

As  we  have  seen,  four  of  the  "  Songs  of  Labor  " 
were  published  in  the  "  Democratic  Review "  in 
1845-46.  "The  Drovers,"  "The  Huskers,"  the 
"  Corn  Song,"  and  the  fine  Dedication  were  writ 
ten  subsequently  for  the  "National  Era,"  and  the 
whole  issued  in  a  volume  by  Ticknor  &  Fields  in 
1850.  These  are  bright  and  cheerful  poems,  such 
as  accord  with  the  hopeful  and  energetic  character 
of  the  laboring  classes  in  a  free  country.  There  is 
seldom  any  occasion  for  depressing  sympathy,  least 
of  all  of  pity,  in  contemplating  the  lot  of.  the  intel 
ligent  and  skilful  artisans  of  New  England.  They 
command  at  least  living  wages,  and  for  every  man 
the  future  has  unnamed  possibilities.  Meanwhile 
there  are  comfortable  homes,  sufficient  food  and 
clothing,  schools  for  the  children,  and  newspapers 
and  libraries  for  all. 

But  our  minds  are  generally  tinged  with  English 
thought,  which  has  arisen  from  observation  of  quite 
other  and  less  favorable  circumstances.  The  word 
"labor"  prepares  us  for  suffering  and  deprivation, 
and  for  the  stunting  of  mind  and  body  in  unwhole 
some  work  done  in  caverns,  forges,  and  mills. 
Carlyle  well  shows  the  feelings  that  are  associated 
with  the  condition  of  laborers  :  — 


1 86  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  Venerable  to  me  is  the  hard  Hand ;  crooked,  coarse ; 
wherein  notwithstanding  lies  a  cunning  virtue,  indefeasi- 
bly  royal,  as  of  the  Sceptre  of  this  Planet.  Venerable  too 
is  the  rugged  face,  all  weather-tanned,  besoiled,  with  its 
rude  intelligence ;  for  it  is  the  face  of  a  Man  living  man 
like.  O,  but  the  more  venerable  for  thy  rudeness,  and 
even  because  we  must  pity  as  well  as  love  thee !  Hardly 
entreated  Brother !  For  us  was  thy  back  so  bent,  for  us 
were  thy  straight  limbs  and  fingers  so  deformed :  thou 
wert  our  Conscript,  on  whom  the  lot  fell,  and  fighting  our 
battles  wert  so  marred.  For  in  thee  too  lay  a  god-created 
Form,  but  it  was  not  to  be  unfolded ;  encrusted  must  it 
stand  with  the  thick  adhesions  and  defacements  of  Labour : 
and  thy  body,  like  thy  soul,  was  not  to  know  freedom." 

Laments  like  this  are  largely  out  of  place  at 
present,  however  they  may  be  inspired  hereafter. 
In  Essex  County,  where  were  the  laborers  that 
Whittier  knew,  labor  was  subject  to  none  of  the 
unimaginable  sorrows.  The  ploughmen  and  mow 
ers  were  as  cheery  as  the  thrushes  and  bobolinks  in 
the  meadows ;  the  fishermen  could  troll  with  stout 
hearts  of  the  "  wet  sheet  and  flowing  sea  "  and  all 
the  glories  of  blue  water ;  and  the  hearts  and  voices 
of  smiths  and  ship-builders  kept  time  to  the  rhyth 
mic  hammers  and  mallets. 

In  the  same  year  (1850)  a  volume  of  biographi 
cal  articles,  reprinted  from  the  "  Era,"  was  issued 
by  the  same  publishers,  with  the  title  "Old  Por 
traits." 


Progress.  187 

In  1852  a  volume  containing  a  selection  from  his 
poems  was  published  in  London  hy  George  Rout- 
ledge  &  Co.  In  1853  was  published  "The  Chaprl 
of  the  Hermits,"  copied  also  from  the  "Era."  In 
the  year  following  appeared  "Literary  Recreations," 
the  last  of  his  prose  works.  "  The  Panorama " 
appeared  in  1850.  The  reader  knows,  of  course, 
that  a  large  number  of  miscellaneous  poems  were 
published  in  each  volume  above  named,  so  that  in 
1857,  when  the  so-called  "  complete  "  edition  was 
issued,  there  was  a  large  and  rich  collection. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

PERSONAL  MATTERS   AND    CURRENT   COMMENT. 

Whittier's  Home  Life.  —  His  Sister  Elizabeth  as  a  Poet.  —  Mercy 
Hussey  and  her  Romantic  Story.  — Dr.  S.  G.  Howe.  —  Calef  and 
Cotton  Mather.  —  Charles  Sumner.  —  "  Ichabod." —  Relenting 
toward  Webster.  —  A  Grand  Portrait  of  the  Orator.  —  The  Fugi 
tive  Slave  Law.  —  Friends  sketched  in  "  The  Last  Walk  in 
Autumn."  —  Lake  Winnepesaukee.  —  The  Poet's  Sketch  of 
Himself. 

rpHE  life  of  Whittier  from  the  time  he  took  up 
his  residence  in  Amesbury  was  uneventful. 
He  lived  in  Lowell,  as  has  been  stated,  for  six 
months  in  the  year  1845,  but  there  was  no  other 
change  in  his  quiet  life.  He  had  become  known  to 
many  circles  of  readers,  and  he  found  employment 
for  his  pen  in  many  ways ;  but  there  were  no 
epochs  except  the  publication  of  successive  volumes. 
Of  his  literary  friendships  something  will  be  said 
hereafter.  He  never  lived,  however,  as  many 
authors  have  done,  in  a  hall  of  glass ;  he  was  sin 
cerely  and  wholly  attached  to  his  home,  and  found 
all  his  pleasures  and  consolations  in  the  society  of 


Personal  Matters  and  Current  Comment.     1  89 

his  mother,  sisters,  and  aunt.  Those  were  joys  into 
which  a  stranger  could  not  enter.  His  sister  Eliza 
beth,  as  we  saw,  was  writing  verses  at  fifteen,  and 
she  remained  through  life  his  nearest  literary  com 
panion.  Sin-  was  not  robust,  and  could  not  cope 
with  her  brother  in  power  or  accomplishment  ;  but 
her  poems  show  that  she  had  a  spiritual  nature, 
full  of  tender  feeling  as  well  as  of  sterling  common 
sense.  In  u  Hazel  Blossoms  "  Whittier  has  printed 
a  few  of  her  poems,  and  in  the  selection  has  been 
guided  by  the  same  severity  of  judgment  which  he 
used  in  regard  to  his  own.  The  number  could  have 
been  greatly  increased  ;  since  many  of  high  merit 
may  be  found  in  the  various  periodicals  that  have 
been  consulted  in  the  preparation  of  this  volume. 

The  family  circle  was  soon  to  be  broken,  and  one 
by  one  the  beloved  ones  were  to  pass  away.  The 
elder  sister,  Mary,  had  been  married  some  years 
before  to  Mr.  Jacob  Caldwell,  at  one  time  publisher 
of  the  "  Gazette,"  of  Haverhill.  The  maiden  aunt, 
Mercy  Hussey,  whose  charming  picture  in  "  Snow 
Bound"  readers  will  remember,  died  April  14, 

1846  :  - 

"  The  sweetest  woman  ever  Fate 

tlriiii-d  a  household  mate." 


There  is  a  story  related  of  her,  illustrative  of  this 
couplet,  which  is  said   to   have  come  from  Whit- 


190  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

tier's  lips,  and  which  may  interest  susceptible 
readers.1 

"  She  was  betrothed  in  her  youth  to  a  young  man 
every  way  worthy  of  her.  She  was  then  living  with 
her  sister  in  the  old  Whittier  mansion  at  East  Haverhill, 
and  her  lover  was  away  on  business  in  New  York.  She 
was  about  to  marry  'out  of  society,'  but  love  which 
laughs  at  locksmiths  pays  little  heed  to  the  little  fences 
built  about  religious  sects.  Late  one  evening,  while  her 
lover  was  away,  she  sat  musing  by  the  fire,  after  all  the 
rest  of  the  family  had  retired.  Some  mysterious  influence 
led  her  to  the  window. 

*  The  moon  above  the  eastern  wood 
Shone  at  its  full ;  the  hill  range  stood 
Transfigured  in  its  silver  flood.' 

The  road  was  then,  as  now,  lined  with  shade  trees,  and  in 
a  moonlit  space  she  saw  a  horse  and  its  rider  coming  down 
the  hill  toward  the  house,  and  she  clearly  recognized  her 
lover.  While  wondering  at  his  unexpected  return,  and 
his  call  at  an  unseasonable  hour,  she  noticed  that  he  drew 
rein  as  he  approached  the  house,  and  she  went  quickly  to 
receive  him  at  the  door  of  ,the  porch,  the  little  porch  next 
the  road.  There  is  a  window  in  this  porch  which  looks 
out  upon  the  road,  and  as  she  stood  unbolting  the  door 
she  saw  her  lover  ride  by  it,  and  turn  as  if  to  stop  at  the 

1  From  an  article  in  the  "  Portland  Transcript,"  written  by  S.  T. 
Pickard,  whose  wife  is  Whittier's  niece.  This  gentleman  has  pub 
lished  a  series  of  descriptions  of  Whittier's  birthplace  and  early 
surroundings,  at  once  minute  and  picturesque,  —  sufficient  in  bulk 
and  in  interest  to  form  an  attractive  volume. 


Personal  Matters  ami  Cur  rent  Comment.     191 

door  she  was  opening,  which  was  at  the  other  side  <>t'  the 
porch.  The  next  instant  the  door  was  open,  but  Meivy 
.saw  no  trace  of  man  or  horse!  The  poor  girl  was  over 
whelmed  with  astonishment,  and  bursting  into  tears  called 
upon  her  sister,  who  had  retired.  Mrs.  Whittirr  heard 
her  >tory  and  tried  to  efface  the  powerful  impression  it 
had  evidently  made.  'Thee  had  better  go  to  bed,  Men-\  ; 
ther  ha>  IM  «  M  u>Irrp  and  dreaming  by  the  fire,'  said  >he. 
But  Mercy  was  quite  sure  she  had  not  been  asleep,  and 
what  she  had  seen  was  as  real  to  her  as  any  waking  expe 
rience  of  her  life.  In  recalling  the  circumstances  of  her 
vision,  one  by  one,  she  at  length  took  notice  that  she  had 
heard  no  sound  of  hoofs  !  It  may  be  imagined  what  wa8 
the  ghostly  effect  of  all  this  upon  the  sensitive  girl.  She, 
at  least,  was  not  surprised,  when,  after  a  weary  waiting  of 
many  days,  a  letter  came  to  her  in  a  strange  hand,  and 
from  a  di>tant  city,  stating  that  her  lover  was  dead, — 
that  he  died  on  the  very  hour  of  her  vision !  In  her  grief 
she  did  not  shut  herself  away  from  the  world,  but  lived 
a  life  of  cheerful  charity.  She  did  not  forget  her  first 
love,  and  gave  no  encouragement  to  other  suitors.  This 
is  the  story  of  Aunt  Mercy,  as  it  is  told  in  the  family 
where  her  memory  is  cherished  as  that  of  a  household 
saint." 

Whittier's  venerable  mother  lived  until  the  end 
of  the  year  1857,  and  so  had  seen  the  fruition  of 
her  hopes  in  his  wide-spread  fame  and  in  the  devel 
opment  of  his  nohle  character.  The  filial  attitude 
and  feeling  were  never  changed  from  boyhood  to 
maturity,  and  the  sacred  bond  was  never  loosened. 


192         .     John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

as  it  is  in  so  many  households.  Of  all  the  sources  of 
heartache  there  is  none  so  common  as  the  gradual 
growing  apart  of  parent  and  child.  The  mother 
too  often  finds  that  as  years  go  by  her  boy  is 
changed,  distant,  impenetrable,  although  all  the 
forms  of  respect  and  affection  are  preserved.  The 
son,  engrossed  with  his  own  thoughts  and  pursuits, 
fancies  that  the  sympathy  which  surrounded  him  in 
childhood  has  no  relevancy  to  his  changed  condi 
tion,  and  no  place  in  his  larger  circle.  It  is  almost 
pathetic  to  think  of  such  meetings  as  can  be  re 
membered.  Then  it  is  seen  that  the  affections 
reach  forward  with  unuttered  longing  from  the 
parent  to  the  child,  but  are  rarely  reciprocated 
with  any  equal  fervor.  But  Whittier's  mother  was 
spared  this  pain.  The  simplicity,  truth,  and  trust 
of  the  early  days  remained  to  the  last. 

Elizabeth  Whittier,  like  her  brother,  was  an  active 
worker  in  the  anti-slavery  cause.  We  saw  her,  after 
the  meeting  in  Haverhill  was  broken  up,  walking 
through  the  mob  with  the  speaker,  the  Rev.  Samuel 
J.  May.  We  remember  that  she  was  one  of  the 
courageous  band  of  women  who  met  in  Boston,  in 
spite  of  the  advice  of  the  mayor,  and  who  bore  with 
serene  patience  the  insults  .of  rioters.  But  her 
nature  was  retiring,  and  she  did  not  take  any  part 
in  public  exercises.  The  picture  that  is  preserved 


Personal  Matters  and  Current  Comment.     193 

of  her  shows  clearly  her  moral  and  intellectual 
character.  The  brows  are  broad,  and  the  head 
inn  ssivr  for  a  woman  ;  the  eyes  are  large  and  ear 
nest,  y»-t  ti-ndcr  and  appealing;  the  lower  part  of 
tin-  face  is  delicate  and  characteristically  womanly. 
Mrs.  Child  has  a  hrief  and  pleasant  reference  to 
her  in  a  letter  (1860),  which  shows  also  some  of 
Whittie-r's  minor  trials.1 

••  Whit  tier  made  piteous  complaints  of  time  wasted  and 
strength  exhausted  by  the  numerous  loafers  who  came  to 
see  him  out  of  mere  idle  curiosity,  or  to  put  up  with  him 
to  save  a  penny.  I  was  amused  to  hear  his  sister  describe 
some  of  these  irruptions  in  her  slow,  Quakerly  fashion. 
'  Thee  has  no  idea,'  said  she,  '  how  much  time  Greenleaf 
spends  in  trying  to  lose  these  people  in  the  streets.  Some 
times  he  comes  home  and  says,  "  Well,  sister,  I  had  hard 
work  to  lose  him,  but  I  have  lost  him."  '  f  But  I  can 
never  lose  a  her,'  said  Whittier.  '  The  women  are  more 
])»  rtinacious  than  the  men;  don't  thee  find  them  so, 
Maria  ?  '  I  told  him  I  did.  '  How  does  thee  manage  to 
get  time  to  do  anything  ?  '  said  he.  I  told  him  I  took 
care  to  live  away  from  the  railroad,  and  kept  a  bulldog 
and  a  pitchfork,  and  advised  him  to  do  the  same." 

Of  the  poems  of  Elizabeth,  the  one  which  will 
most  interest  readers  is  entitled  "  The  Wedding 
Veil,'"  as  it  discloses  a  tender  reminiscence.  The 
poem  addressed  to  Dr.  Kane,  the  Arctic  explorer, 

1  Letters,  p.  142. 
13 


194  J°h}l  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

was  read  to  him  not  long  before  he  died,  and  he  ex 
pressed  to  friends  the  deepest  gratitude  for  the 
tribute. 

THE    WEDDING   VEIL. 

Dear  Anna,  when  I  brought  her  veil, 
Her  white  veil  on  her  wedding  night, 

Threw  o'er  my  thin  brown  hair  its  folds, 
And,  laughing,  turned  me  to  the  light. 

"  See,  Bessie,  see  !  you  wear  at  last 
The  bridal  veil,  forsworn  for  years  ! " 

She  saw  my  face  —  her  laugh  was  hushed, 
Her  happy  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

With  kindly  haste  and  trembling  hand 

She  drew  away  the  gauzy  mist ; 
"  Forgive,  dear  heart !  "  her  sweet  voice  said ; 

Her  loving  lips  my  forehead  kissed. 

We  passed  from  out  the  searching  light ; 

The  summer  night  was  calm  and  fair ; 
I  did  not  see  her  pitying  eyes, 

I  felt  her  soft  hand  smooth  my  hair. 

Her  tender  love  unlocked  my  heart ; 

'  Mid  falling  tears,  at  last  I  said, 
"  Forsworn  indeed  to  me  that  veil, 

Because  I  only  love  the  dead  !  " 

She  stood  one  moment  statue-still, 

And,  musing,  spoke  in  undertone  : 
"  The  living  love  may  colder  grow  ; 

The  dead  is  safe  with  God  alone! " 

Elizabeth  died  in  the  autumn  of  1864. 


Personal  Matters  and  Current  Comment.     195 

This  may  ho  a  favorahle  time  to  look  at  some 
poems,  written  after  the  publication  of  the  small 
volume  of  1843,  that  need  comment,  or  that  refer 
to  persons  or  events.  Whittier  has  seldom  taken 
pains  to  give  explanations  either  of  scenes  or  por 
traits.  For  example,  take  the  poem  "The  Hero" 
(written  for  the  "National  Era,"  April,  1853). 
Readers  in  New  England,  and  others  acquainted 
with  the  public  men  and  institutions  of  Boston, 
after  seeing  that  the  hero  had  served  as  a  soldier  in 
the  Greek  war  for  independence,  had  been  impris 
oned  in  Germany,  and  had  afterwards  been  an 
instructor  of  the  blind,  and  foremost  in  all  philan 
thropic  movements,  would  have  no  difficulty  in 
deciding  that  the  hero  was  Dr.  Samuel  G.  Howe. 
Still,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  many  reasonably  well- 
informed  people,  especially  in  England  or  in  the 
West,  might  find  the  poem  obscure,  and  so  fail  to 
appreciate  its  force  and  beauty.  When  the  'ex 
planation  is  given,  showing  the  brilliant  phases  of 
the  "  hero's  "  character  and  of  his  eventful  life,  the 
poem  will  begin  to  glow  in  the  reader's  mind  and 
memory.  Then  will  the  opening  stanza  have  its 
due  significance :  — 

"  O  for  a  knight  like  Bayard, 

Without  ivproach  or  fear; 
My  light  glove  on  his  casque  of  steel, 
My  love-knot  on  his  spear !  " 


196  John  G-reenleaf  Whittier. 

And  who  in  foreign  lands,  or  even  of  American 
birth,  unless  of  the  elders,  will  feel  the  significance 
of  the  noble  tribute  to  Rantoul  (copied  from 
the  "National  Era,"  July,  1853)?  The  contempo 
raries  of  Whittier  well  remember  Robert  Rantoul, 
the  young  senator  from  Massachusetts,  a  native  of 
Essex  County,  the  great  Webster's  successor,  who, 
though  reared  as  a  Democrat,  had  thoughts  of  lib 
erty  for  all  men,  —  not  liberty  for  whites  alone. 
They  remember  his  face,  lighted  by  genius  and 
giving  the  sure  signs  of  character  and  leadership. 
They  remember  how  the  hopes  of  the  Free-Soilers 
were  centred  upon  this  able  and  accomplished 
man,  and  how  soon  those  hopes  were  dashed  by  his 
sudden  death.  And  those  who  thus  remember  will 
never  be  able  to  read  Whittier's  ardent  lines  with 
out  a  thrill  of  emotion. 

Let  the  reader  turn  now  to  "  Calef  in  Boston " 
(from  the  "  National  Era,"  September,  1849),  and 
remember,  if  he  will,  that  these  comments  are  not 
for  historians  and  antiquaries.  Every  one  has  read 
of  the  terrible  scenes  in  Massachusetts  when 
witches  were  tried  and  executed ;  and  most  persons 
know  that  the  Rev.  Cotton  Mather  was  the  leading 
spirit  in  those  trials,  ministering  to  the  popular 
superstition  by  accounts  of  demoniac  possession, 
and  spurring  on  judges  to  exterminate  the  wretched 


Matters  and  Current  Comment.      197 

beings  <m  whom  suspicion  fell.  His  book,  "Won 
ders  of  the  Invisible  World  Displayed,"  is  known 
to  all  st  u< I* 'lit  s  of  our  early  annals.  But  the  general 
reader  may  not  know  that  Robert  Calef,  a  Boston 
merchant,  wrote  a  common-sense  reply,  entitled 
"More  Wonders  of  the  Invisible  World"  (1700), 
which  had  a  powerful  influence  in  quelling  the  ex 
citement  against  witchcraft.  This  book  was  natu 
rally  denounced  by  the  clergy,  and  had  the  honor  of 
being  publicly  burned  in  the  yard  of  Harvard  Col 
lege  by  order  of  the  president,  Increase  Mather. 
The  Mathers  and  Calef,  as  intimated  in  the  poem, 
are  interred  in  Copp's  Hill  Burying-ground,  in  the 
North  End  of  Boston. 

"  The  Branded  Hand  "  refers  to  the  punishment 
of  Captain  Jonathan  Walker,  a  shipmaster  of  Har 
wich,  Mass.,  who  for  the  crime  of  aiding  a  negro 
to  escape  from  a  Southern*  port  was  branded  in  the 
hand  with  the  letters  "  S.  S."  (slave-stealer). 

The  appeals  "  To  Faneuil  Hall "  and  "  To  Massa 
chusetts  "  were  written  upon  the  near  approach  of 
the  war  with  Mexico  ;  and  "  The  Pine-Tree,"  in  a 
still  more  passionate  strain,  called  on  the  public 
to  unite  against  the  schemes  for  the  extension  of 
slavery  which  followed  that  unjust  war.  Remem 
bering  that  the  first  national  anti-slavery  party  was 
formed  at  Buffalo,  in  1848,  under  the  leadership  of 


198  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Van  Buren  and  Adams,  we  shall  understand  the 
significance  of  "  The  Paean."  The  poem  "  To  a 
Southern  Statesman  "  is  addressed  to  John  C.  Cal- 
houn.  "  Leggett's  Monument "  is  a  tribute  to  an 
intrepid  man,  once  an  associate  with  the  poet 
Bryant  in  his  editorial  labors,  whose  tomb  was 
built  by  those  who  had  contemned  and  resisted  his 
efforts  in  the  cause  of  freedom. 

Continually  we  see  that  in  choice  of  subjects 
Whittier  is  governed  by  the  influences  of  his  Quaker 
training,  and  by  his  deep  convictions  upon  moral 
subjects.  He  has  not  sought  out  the  world's  heroes 
and  favorites  for  eulogy,  but  has  given  his  tributes 
of  affection  and  sympathy  to  those  whom  the  world 
neglected  or  despised.  "  Barclay  of  Ury  "  is  an 
example  of  Whittier' s  brave  championship  of  an 
unpopular  cause,  —  a  singularly  perfect  and  touch 
ing  poem.  Readers  will  see  also  lines  to  Joseph 
Sturge,  to  William  Forster,  Daniel  Wheeler,  and 
Daniel  Neall, —  also  to  the  abolitionists  Storrs  and 
Torrey.  There  are  few,  if  any,  adulatory  verses 
addressed  to  the  great,  unless  we  except  Charles 
Sumner,  who  was  a  co-worker  and  life-long  friend. 
The  poem  «  To  C.  S."  (from  the  "National  Era," 
December,  1854),  though  not  in  the  least  like 
a  sonnet,  has  but  one  impulsive  thought,  which, 
gathering  slowly,  bursts  like  a  great  wave  at  the 


Personal  Matters' and  Current  Comment.      199 

end.  Perhaps  Whittier  has  written  poems  more 
imprecal.le  in  diction,  but  none  that  is  pervaded  by 
a  more  single,  intense  motive,  and  none  that  cul 
minates  in  more  grandeur.  This  was  before  the 
brutal  assault  by  Preston  S.  Brooks,  and  before 
any  differences  had  occurred  to  separate  Suinner 
from  any  of  the  loving  hearts  of  the  North. 

There  is  an  elaborate  eulogy  upon  Sumner  in  a 
later  volume,  which  in  tone  recalls  Dryden's  verses 
to  the  Lord  Protector  Cromwell. 

This  period  must  not  be  passed  over  without 
mention  of  a  poem  from  the  "  National  Era,"  May  2, 
1850,  which  in  a  certain  light  exhibits  Whittier's 
genius  in  its  noblest  form :  that  is  "  Ichabod," 
which  signifies,  as  Biblical  readers  know,  "  the 
glory  has  departed."  When  in  1850,  on  the  7th 
of  March,  Webster  made  the  great  conciliatory 
speech,  as  conservatives  thought  it,  —  or  gave  the 
sign  of  apostasy,  as  abolitionists  felt  he  had  done, 
—  Whittier  expressed  the  almost  unutterable  regret 
of  Northern  men  in  stanzas  of  painful  significance. 
They  are  burned  into  the  memory  of  the  admirers 
of  Webster  as  he  stood  in  his  early  days :  — 

"  O,  dumb  be  passion's  stormy  rage, 

Wlu-n  he  who  might 
Have  lighted  up  and  led  his  age, 

Fall.-  hark  in  ni^ht. 


2OO  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  All  else  is  gone ;  from  those  great  eyes 

The  soul  has  fled  : 

When  faith  is  lost,  when  honor  dies, 
The  man  is  dead  ! 

"  Then  pay  the  reverence  of  old  days 

To  his  dead  fame ; 
Walk  backward  with  averted  gaze, 
And  hide  the  shame  !  " 

At  the  public  breakfast  given  to  Whittier  in 
1877  Mr.  Emerson  read  "  Ichabod  "  as  his  tribute 
to  the  poet.  It  contains  more  storage  of  electric 
energy  than  anything  we  remember  in  our  time. 
Although  Whittier 's  judgment  of  the  senator  was 
irrevocable,  yet  his  feelings  afterwards  softened 
towards  the  man.  This  is  seen  in  one  of  his 
later  poems,  "The  Lost  Occasion."  The  picture 
of  the  great  statesman  is  done  with  strong  and 
masterly  lines. 

"  Whom  the  rich  heavens  did  so  endow 
With  eyes  of  power  and  Jove's  own  brow, 

New  England's  stateliest  type  of  man, 
In  port  and  speech  Olympian  ; 
Whom  no  one  met,  at  first,  but  took 
A  second  awed  and  wondering  look, 

Whose  words  in  simplest  homespun  clad 
The  Saxon  strength  of  Casdmon's  had, 
With  power  reserved  at  need  to  reach 
The  Roman  forum's  loftiest  speech. 


Personal  Matters  and  Current  Comment.     201 

Thou,  foiled  in  aim  and  IKIJIC.  bereaved 

Of  old  friends,  by  the  new  deceived, 

Too  soon  for  us,  too  soon  for  tine. 

Beside  thy  lonely  Northern  sea, 

"Where  long  and  low  the  marsh-lands  spread, 

Lay  wearily  down  thy  august  head. 

Thou  shouldst  have  lived  to  feel  below 
Thy  fci-t  Disunion's  fierce  upthrow, — 
The  late->j>rung  mine  that  underlaid 
Thy  sad  concessions  vainly  made. 

No  stronger  voice  than  thine  had  then 
Called  out  the  utmost  might  of  men. 

Ah,  cruel  fate,  that  closed  to  thee, 
O  sleeper  by  the  Northern  sea, 
The  gates  of  opportunity  ! 

But,  where  thy  native  mountains  bare 
Their  foreheads  to  diviner  air, 
Fit  emblem  of  enduring  fame, 
One  lofty  summit  keeps  thy  name. 

And  evermore  that  mountain  mass 
Seems  climbing  from  the  shadowy  pass 
To  light,  as  if  to  manifest 
Thy  nobler  self,  thy  life  at  best !  " 

To  connect  the  anti-slavery  poems  of  this  period 
(before  1860),  it  is  necessary  to  remember  but  a 
few  events.  The  Fugitive  Slave  Law  was  enacted 
in  1850  as  a  part  of  the  compromise  ;i>>«  ntcd  to 
by  Webster;  and  though  the  number  of  persons 


2O2  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

returned  to  slavery  was  very  small,  the  enforce 
ment  of  the  law  was  carried  out  in  an  odious 
manner,  with  the  design  of  humiliating  the  North. 
From  these  occasions  came  the  poems,  "  Moloch 
in  State  Street"  (in  Boston),  "The  Rendition," 
"  The  Voices,"  "  Lines "  ("  A  pious  magistrate," 
&c.),  "Stanzas  for  the  Times"  ("The  evil  days 
have  come,"  &c.),  "  A  Sabbath  Scene,"  and  others. 

Very  soon  came  the  candidacy  of  Fremont 
and  the  struggle  between  Northern  and  Southern 
emigrants  for  the  possession  of  Kansas  and  Ne 
braska.  In  this  sharp  competition  the  North  won, 
although  Fremont  was  defeated ;  and  meanwhile 
Whittier  cheered  on  the  friends  of  freedom  with 
his  most  spirited  lyrics,  such  as  "To  Pennsylva 
nia,"  "The  Pass  of  the  Sierra,"  "The  Kansas 
Emigrants,"  "  The  New  Exodus,"  &c.  The  free 
dom  of  these  new  States  was  not  established  with 
out  bloodshed,  as  guerillas  from  Missouri  made 
constant  raids  upon  the  "  Yankee "  settlements, 
and  butchered  men  and  women  by  scores.  One 
of  these  massacres  is  the  subject  of  a  poem,  "  Le 
Marais  du  Cygne,"  published  in  1858.  "  The  Burial 
of  Barbour"  is  another  poem  suggested  by  the 
murders  of  pro-slavery  partisans. 

We  must  find  room  for  a  characteristic  poem 
written  during  the  Fremont  campaign  for  the 


Personal  Matters  and  Current  Comment.     203 

'•  National  Era,"  and  not  included  in  the  collections 

hitherto  :  — 

A    SONG    FOR   TIIK    TIM}  . 

Up,  laggards  of  Freedom  !  —  our  free  flag  is  cast 
To  the  blaze  of  tin-  sun  and  the  wings  of  the  blast; 
Will  ye  turn  from  a  struggle  so  bravely  begun,  — 
From  a  foe  that  is  breaking,  a  field  that  's  half  won  ? 

Whoso  loves  not  his  kind,  and  who  fears  not  the  Lord, 
Let  him  join  that  tW>  service,  accursed  and  abhorred! 
Let  him  do  his  base  will,  as  the  slave  only  can,  — 
Let  him  put  on  the  bloodhound,  and  put  off  the  Man  ! 

Let  him  go  where  the  cold  blood  that  creeps  in  his  veins 
Shall  stiffen  the  slave-whip,  and  rust  on  his  chains; 
Where  the  black  slave  shall  laugh  in  his  bonds,  to  behold 
The  White  Slave  beside  him,  self-fettered  and  sold ! 

But  ye,  who  still  boast  of  hearts  beating  and  warm, 
Rise,  from  lake  shore  and  ocean's,  like  waves  in  a  storm  ! 
Come,  throng  round  our  banner  in  Liberty's  name, 
Like  winds  from  your  mountains,  like  prairies  aflame ! 

Our  foe,  hidden  long  in  his  ambush  of  night. 

Xow,  forced  from  his  covert,  stands  black  in  the  light. 

Oh,  the  cruel  to  Man,  and  the  hateful  to  God, 

Smite  him  down  to  the  earth,  that  is  cursed  where  he  trod ! 

For  deeper  than  thunder  of  summer's  loud  shower, 
On  the  dome  of  the  sky  God  is  striking  the  hour ! 
Shall  we  falter  before  what  we  've  prayed  for  so  long, 
When  the  Wrong  is  so  weak,  and  the  Right  is  so  strong? 

Come  forth  all  together  !  —  come  old  and  come  young,  — 
Freedom's  vote  in  each  hand,  and  her  song  on  each  tongue ; 


2O4  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Truth  naked  is  stronger  than  Falsehood  in  mail  — 
The  Wrong  cannot  prosper,  the  Right  cannot  fail ! 

Like  leaves  of  the  summer  once  numbered  the  foe, 
But  the  hoar-frost  is  falling,  the  northern  winds  blow ; 
Like  leaves  of  November  ere  long  shall  they  fall, 
For  earth  wearies  of  them,  and  God  's  over  all ! 

What  other  conflict  for  human  rights  was  ever 
enlivened  by  such  thrilling  odes,  such  glowing 
appeals  to  conscience,  honor,  and  valor  ?  Long 
fellow  and  Bryant  had  given  their  timely  efforts 
and  the  weight  of  their  great  names  to  the  cause 
of  freedom ;  Lowell  had  employed  all  the  resources 
of  wit  and  sarcasm,  and  made  the  heads  of  the 
North  keep  time  to  his  Yankee  lyrics ;  but  Whittier 
appeared  to  live  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  sound 
the  solemn  call  to  duty  at  each  new  juncture. 
What  an  ease  and  affluence  of  melody  in  these 
swiftly  moving  verses !  Never  a  thought  maimed 
by  its  measure  nor  jostled  out  of  place  by  a 
rhyme!  The  shuttle  flies  and  returns,  and  the 
growing  lines  close  up,  —  even,  uniform,  firm,  and 
imperishable. 

The  immortal  "  Marseillaise "  stands  almost 
alone  in  the  time  of  trial  in  France,  and  no 
similar  crisis  has  called  out  the  poets  of  England 
since  the  Restoration.  The  poetry  of  the  anti- 
slavery  movement  in  the  United  States  exceeds  in 


Personal  Matters  and  Current  Comment.     205 

bulk,  as  it  does  in  inspiration,  power,  and  boauty, 
all  the  poems  written  on  subjects  of  great  national 
importance  in  the  latter  centuries.  The  change  of 
ministers  or  of  dynasties,  wars  foreign  or  domestic, 
tariffs,  franchises,  land  tenures,  could  never  in 
spire  the  lofty  thoughts  or  lead  to  the  exaltation  of 
feeling  such  as  have  characterized  the  poets  and 
orators  of  this  era.  It  is  wonderful,  too,  that 
natures  perhaps  far  from  poetic  in  grain  became 
fired  with  the  general  enthusiasm  and  broke  out 
into  song.  "  All  the  air  was  flaYne."  Garrison 
himself  at  times  wrote  noble  lines ;  Pierpont's 
great  heart  beat  audibly  ;  and  Wendell  Phillips 
by  the  splendor  of  his  genius  made  every  audi 
ence  a  partaker  of  the  spirit  that  moves  the  solid 
world. 

We  look  back  as  if  through  smoke  and  flame  to 
that  eventful  period  ;  and  we  cannot  but  be  grate 
ful  to  have  lived  when  great  thoughts,  eternal 
principles,  and  sublime  ideals  actuated  men.  From 
these  days  of  prosperity,  greed,  and  corruption, 
back  to  the  times  when  men  were  ready  to  die  for 
the  faith  that  was  in  them  —  can  it  be  that  it  is 
only  twenty  years  ? 

Although  our  present  task  is  chiefly  to  furnish 
necessary  interpretation,  yet  we  must  pause  to  <-all 
attention  to  one  poem  every  line  of  which  is  full  of 


206  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

meaning.  It  is  very  simple  and  straightforward, 
and  is  not  marked  by  the  higher  poetical  qualities ; 
but  it  is  wholly  without  alloy,  a  solid  piece  of 
work,  —  a  perfect  poem  of  its  kind.  It  is  enti 
tled  "  Our  State,"  and  its  final  stanzas  are  often 
quoted  :  - 

"  For  well  she  keeps  her  ancient  stock, 
The  stubborn  strength  of  Plymouth  Rock  ; 
And  still  maintains,  with  milder  laws 
And  clearer  light,  the  Good  Old  Cause ! 

"  Nor  heeds  the  sceptic's  puny  hands 
While  near  her  school  the  church-spire  stands  ; 
Nor  fears  the  blinded  bigot's  rule, 
While  near  her  church-spire  stands  the  school." 

Lines  "  To  A.  K."  were  addressed  to  Avis  Keene, 
a  minister  of  the  Society  of  Friends  ("National 
Era,"  August  22,  1850).  She  is  the  person  re 
ferred  to  in  the  poem  "The  Meeting"  ("Atlantic," 
vol.  xxi.  p.  221)  :  - 

"  Whose  eighty  years  but  added  grace 
And  saintlier  meaning  to  her  face  — 
The  look  of  one  who  bore  away 
Glad  tidings  from  the  hills  of  day, 
While  all  our  hearts  went  forth  to  meet 
The  coming  of  her  beautiful  feet." 

No  one  can  doubt  the  genuine  warmth  of  Whit- 
tier's  heart  in  reading  his  many  beautiful  tributes 
to  near  friends,  whether  among  the  living  or  the 


Personal  Matters  and  Current  Comment.     207 

dead.  But  these,  in  most  instances,  are  discreetly 
anonymous,  and  the  reader  must  be  content  with 
tin-  expression  of  feeling  without  lookingfor  names. 
The  poet  is  exceedingly  averse  to  giving  publicity 
to  names  of  private  persons,  or  to  making  to  the 
world  any  "  confidential  "  relations  whatever  ;  and 
it  is  far  from  the  desire  of  the  author  to  contravene 
his  reasonable  wishes. 

Not  infrequently  Whittier  has  sketched  his 
friends  for  us.  In  the  fourteenth,  fifteenth,  and 
sixteenth  stanzas  of  "  The  Last  Walk  in  Autumn  " 
we  find  clear  outlines  of  Emerson,  Bayard  Taylor, 
and  Charles  Sumner  :  — 

"  He  who  might  Plato's  banquet  grace 

Have  I  not  seen  before  me  sit, 
And  watched  his  puritanic  face 

With  more  than  Eastern  wisdom  lit? 

"  Here  too,  of  answering  love  secure, 

Have  I  not  welcomed  to  my  hearth 
The  gentle  pilgrim  troubadour, 

Whose  songs  have  girdled  half  the  earth  ? 

"  And  he,  who  to  the  lettered  wealth 
Of  ages  adds  the  lore  unpriced, 
The  wisdom  and  the  moral  health, 

The  ethics  of  the  school  of  Christ ; 
The  statesman  to  his  holy  trust, 
As  the  Athenian  archon,  just, 
Struck  down,  exiled  like  him  for  truth  alone, 
Has  he  not  graced  my  home  with  beauty  all  his  own  ?  " 


208  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Within  this  period  (before  1857)  are  three  bal 
lads,  much  quoted  :  "  Mary  Garvin  "  ("  National 
Era,"  January,  1856),  "  Maud  Muller  "  ("  National 
Era,"  December,  1854),  and  "  The  Ranger,"  which 
has  not  been  traced  to  its  original  source. 

One  can  see  that  in  the  last  generation  the  region 
of  romance  was  in  Canada  and  the  northern  woods. 
It  appears  that  the  main  incident  in  "  Mary  Garvin," 
the  return  of  a  daughter  who  had  become  a  Cath 
olic,  was  not  an  unlikely  circumstance.  In  Chase's 
"  History  of  Haverhill  "  there  is  preserved  a  letter 
from  one  Mary  Wainwright,  whose  daughter  had 
been  carried  away  by  the  Indians  and  French,  in 
which  the  mother  asks  that  means  be  taken  to  get 
her  child  back  before  she  should  be  perverted.1 

In  several  poems  Whittier  has  given  pictures  of 
the  lake  scenery  of  New  Hampshire ;  the  most 
widely  read,  and  probably  the  most  beautiful,  is 
"  Summer  by  the  Lakeside."  In  the  present 

1  "HAVERHILL,  29th  April,  1710. 

"  To  his  Excellency,  Joseph  Dudley,  Captain-General  and  Governor 
in  Chief,  &c.,  &c.,  to  the  Honorable  council  and  General  Assembly 
now  mett  ;  the  petition  of  Mary  Wainwright  sheweth  that,  whereas 
my  daughter  hath  been  for  a  long  time  in  captivity  with  the  French 
of  Canada,  and  I  have  late  reason  to  fear  that  her  soul  is  in  great 
danger  if  not  already  captivated  and  she  brought  to  their  way  ; 
therefore  I  humbly  intreate  your  Excellency,  that  some  care  may  be 
taken  for  her  redemption  before  Canada  be  so  endeared  to  her  that 
I  shall  never  have  my  daughter  more." 


Personal  Mailer*  and  Current  Comment.     209 

chapter  it  is  intended  only  to  furnish  necessary 
information;  an  estimate  of  values  may  be  given 
hereafter.  The  lake  is  Winnipiseogee,  or,  as  it  is 
now  more  commonly  spelled,  Winnepesaukee,  situ 
ated  in  Central  Xe\v  Hampshire,  where  it  receives 
the  brooks  and  melted  snows  of  the  White  Moun 
tains.  Tourists  well  know  it,  as  it  lies  in  the  usual 
route  of  summer  travel  to  the  mountain  region. 
It  is  irregular  in  form,  and,  having  numerous 
islands  as  well  as  projecting  headlands,  there  is 
seldom  any  distant  prospect  on  the  water  level ; 
but  at  every  turn  new  vistas  are  disclosed  with  new 
groupings  of  form  and  color,  and  behind  every 
northward  view  the  pale  blue  masses  of  hills  form 
a  background.  No  very  large  mountains  are  near 
its  shores,  —  the  chief  being  Red  Hill  towards  the 
northwest,  and  the  Ossipee  Mountains  towards  the 
northeast ;  therefore  it  lacks  the  elements  of  gran 
deur  seen  in  the  Swiss  lakes,  but  it  has  perhaps  an 
equal  fascination  in  its  unending  phases  of  beauty. 
Another  equally  celebrated  poem,  "  The  Last 
Walk  in  Autumn,"  referred  to  above,  belongs  to  this 
period,  and  claims  mention  here  only  for  the  sake  of 
saying  that  the  scene  is  in  the  valley  of  the  Merri- 
mac,  within  sight  of  the  river,  among  the  beaut  il'ul 
rounded  hills  before  described.  Those  who  un 
familiar  with  tin-  n-irion  will  find  some  beauty  in 

1 1 


2 1  o  John  Greenleaf  Wkitlier. 

every  line,  hidden  from  eyes  of  strangers.  This 
poem  and  the  one  just  named,  "  Summer  by  the 
Lakeside,"  are  perfect  specimens  of  landscape 
painting. 

It  remains  only  to  notice  the  poem,  "  My  Name 
sake,"  which  is  addressed  to  Francis  Greenleaf 
Allinson,  of  Burlington,  N.  J.  It  is  a  curious, 
truthful,  quaint  expression  of  impressions,  feel 
ings,  and  fancies,  and  may  be  taken  as  a  piece  of 
faithful  spiritual  self-delineation.  It  is  wholly  char 
acteristic,  —  unlike  any  autobiography  or  "  confes 
sion"  or  confidence  ever  penned.  Some  stanzas 
from  it  may  be  quoted  hereafter.  At  present  we 
copy  only  a  few  stanzas  that  come  to  the  heart  of  a 
biographer  with  a  force  like  that  of  an  unlooked-for 
blow.  The  sensation  is  much  like  that  one  feels 
when  reading  Shakespeare's  homely  epitaph  for  the 
first  time :  — 

"  Good  frend  for  lesvs  sake  forbeare 
To  digg  the  dust  encloased  heare." 

"  Let  Love's  and  Friendship's  tender  debt 

Be  paid  by  those  I  love  in  life ; 
Why  should  the  unborn  critic  whet 
For  me  his  scalping-knife  ? 

"  Why  should  the  stranger  peer  and  pry 

One's  vacant  house  of  life  about, 
And  drag  for  curious  ear  and  eye 
His  faults  and  follies  out?  — 


Personal  Mntffrs  and  Current  Comment.     2 1 1 

'•  \Vhv  stuff,  for  fools  to  gaze  upon, 

With  rhaiY  of  words,  tin-  garli  lit-  wore, 
As  corn-husks  wlu-n  tin-  car  is  gone 
Arc  rustlctl  all  the  inoiv  '.' 

"Lot  kindly  SiU-nce  close  again, 

The  picture  vanish  from  the  eye, 
And  on  the  dim  and  misty  main 
Let  the  small  ripple  die." 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

LITERATURE   AND   REFORM  UNITED. 

The  Ticknor  &  Fields  Edition.  —  Whittier  at  Maturity.  —  His 
Place  in  Letters  acknowledged.  —  The  "  Atlantic  Monthly."  - 
Dissolution  of  Parties.  —  Reform  no  longer  Unfashionable.  — 
Letters  from  Whittier  amending  Poems.  —  "  Home  Ballads." 
—  John  Brown.  —  Letter  of  Whittier  to  Mrs.  Child. 

TN  1857,  when  the  complete  edition  of  poems 
was  published  by  Ticknor  &  Fields,  Whittier, 
then  in  his  fiftieth  year,  had  reached  a  position 
which,  if  not  the  highest,  was  one  of  universally 
recognized  eminence.  He  had  become  famous  by 
natural  causes,  springing  from  the  development  of 
his  faculties,  and  without  the  aid  of  learned  schools 
or  coteries,  of  travel,  friendly  reviews,  political  or 
social  influences.  He  had  been  simply,  unpreten 
tiously  independent,  neither  using  arts  to  gain 
favor,  nor  holding  himself  aloof  to  receive  hom 
age.  He  was  distinctly  eminent  as  a  man,  and 
not  admired  solely  because  he  was  a  poet.  It  was 
at  this  period  that  the  writer  first  met  him,  and 
the  impression  made  by  his  presence,  and  his  few 


and  11  >  form   vnit«l.  213 

but  well-chosen  words,  will  not  be  forgotten.  His 
gravity  was  serene  rather  than  forbidding,  and 
his  very  reserve  more  attractive  than  the  profuse 
speech  of  many  others.  He  was  invited  to  take 
part  in  orirani/.ing  the  "Atlantic  Monthly,"  and  he 
cordially  iravc  the  aid  of  his  advice  and  his  name. 
Tin-  attempt  to  combine  the  power  of  all  the  lead 
ing  writers  of  the  North  in  behalf  of  the  cause  to 
which  he  had  devoted  his  life  could  not  be  other 
wise  than  a  matter  of  the  highest  moment  in  his 
new. 

Whatever  other  agencies  had  been  employed  to 
make  freedom  national  and  universal,  it  is  but 
truth  to  say  that  the  "Atlantic"  was  the  first  peri 
odical  of  high  rank  in  which  letters  and  art,  —  fic 
tion,  poetry,  essays,  and  criticism,  —  the  Muses  and 
Graces,  —  all  did  homage  to  the  great  moral  ques 
tion  of  that  day.  From  the  time  when  Garrison 
and  Knapp  were  found  by  Boston's  fastidious  and 
apologetic  mayor  "  working  in  an  obscure  hole, 
with  a  negro  for  an  assistant,"  to  the  establish 
ment  of  this  strong  and  splendid  magazine,  there 
was  a  change  !  The  publishers,  Phillips,  Sampson, 
A  Co.,  had  handsome  quarters  on  Winter  Street, 
and  abolitionists,  who  gathered  there,  —  Whittier, 
Emerson,  Mrs.  Stowe,  Edmund  Quincy,  Professor 
Lowell,  Theodore  Parker,  and  others,  as  well  as 


214  J°hn  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

the  more  purely  literary  contributors,  such  as  Long 
fellow,  Holmes,  Prescott,  Motley,  Norton,  Cabot, 
and  Trowbridge,  —  made  the  place  an  attractive 
centre.  The  pay  of  writers  was  liberal  for  the 
times  ;  and  this  fact,  together  with  the  prestige 
that  attended  the  enterprise  from  the  first,  drew 
abundant  contributions  from  every  part  of  the 
Union  and  from  England. 

The  "  Atlantic "  became  the  fashion ;  and  as  it 
was  the  only  literary  periodical  in  America  that 
discussed  moral  and  political  questions  with  free 
dom,  it  undoubtedly  gave  tone  and  direction  to  the 
thinking  of  young  people  of  both  sexes.  The  name 
of  "  abolitionist "  came  to  be  less  opprobrious  than 
"  traitor  "  or  "  incendiary,"  —  nay,  even  to  acquire 
a  certain  distinction.  It  is  a  great  matter  for  a 
writer  to  be  inside  the  palings  of  society  when  he 
would  exert  an  influence  in  high  quarters.  An 
unfashionable  man  might  reason  like  Hume  or 
write  like  De  Quincey,  and  might  not  be  recognized 
until  he  had  finished  his  work  and  was  in  God's 
peace. 

The  little  senate  which  formed  this  magazine 
fortunately  comprised  not  only  the  highest  names 
in  American  literature,  but  men  who  had  claims  to 
social  distinction.  Prejudices,  original  and  inher 
ited,  as  well  as  party  ties,  melted  away.  It  was  a 


Literature  and  Reform  united.  2  1 5 

time  of  general  solution,  to  be  followed  by  crystal- 
li/.atioii  around  nc\v  centres  of  thought  and  activ 
ity.  The  names  of  Democrat  and  Whig  no  longer 
had  any  special  significance,  nor  any  power  over 
free  and  liberal  minds.  The  Whig  party  was  ex 
piring;  its  progressive  members  were  becoming 
R« 'publicans,  and  the  residue  not  long  after  went 
over  to  the  Democrats.  The  Democratic  mass, 
too,  was  largely  disintegrated,  —  a  process  begun 
by  the  coalition  with  Free-Soilers  in  electing 
Charles  Sumner  to  the  United  States  Senate,  and 
hastened  afterwards  by  the  feeling  of  national  loy 
alty  during  the  War  of  the  Rebellion,  —  so  that 
many  original  Democrats  became  prominent  Re 
publicans,  contending  against  malcontent  Whigs 
who  had  turned  Democrats  by  a  kind  of  acetous 
fermentation.  It  was  an  instance  of  "  changing 
partners "  in  the  political  figure.  This  movement 
of  cross  purposes,  begun  in  1851,  continued  in  the 
presidential  election  of  1856,  was  greatly  acceler 
ated  by  literary  and  social  influences,  as  well  as 
by  the  aid  of  powerful  newspapers  in  New  York 
and  other  centres  of  opinion,  and  it  culminated  in 
1860  in  the  election  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  There 
was  an  entirely  new  party  classification  thence 
forward. 

The  "  Atlantic "  was   mainly  devoted  to  belles 


216  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

lettres,  and  was  intended,  first  of  all,  to  be  enter 
taining  ;  but  every  number  contained  a  political 
article  by  Parke  Godwin  or  by  Lowell,  and  the 
public  understood  and  felt  that  this  was  the  point 
of  the  ploughshare  that  was  to  break  up  the  old 
fields.  A  plethora  of  discussion,  of  invective,  or  of 
passionate  appeal,  such  as  had  been  employed  in 
the  anti-slavery  journals,  would  have  swamped  the 
magazine,  or  destroyed  its  influence  with  the  classes 
to  be  reached.  All  the  contributors,  including  the 
old  abolitionists,  were  content  to  leave  questions 
of  politics  to  the  editor.  Whittier's  poems  for  the 
first  three  years  were  upon  general  subjects,  with 
the  single  exception  of  "  Le  Marais  du  Cygne," 
written  upon  a  massacre  by  pro-slavery  ruffians  in 
Kansas.  It  was  the  peculiar  good  fortune  of  the 
magazine,  as  conducted,  that  all  its  sails  drew ; 
and  whether  it  was  Holmes  discoursing  at  his  im 
mortal  breakfast-table,  Prescott  giving  a  foretaste 
of  his  history  of  Philip  II.,  Norton  expounding 
ideas  of  art,  Emerson  astonishing  readers  with  a 
touch  of  the  mysticism  of  the  Orient  and  much 
sublimity  of  his  own,  Dorsheimer  (of  New  York) 
judging  works  of  political  biography,  Longfellow 
singing  his  high  and  serene  lyrics,  Mitchell  with  his 
bright  sea-songs,  Dr.  Palmer  showing  pictures  of  life 
in  the  ancient  cradle  of  mankind,  O'Brien  flashing 


Literature  and  Reform  united.  2 1  7 

his  Diamond  Lens,  Mrs.  Rose  Terry  Cooke  exhib 
it  inir  the  traits  of  the  primitivr  Yankee,  or  Mrs. 
Sto\\(\  1'ivsh  from  her  great  triumph,  telling  of  the 
Minister's  Wooing,  —  each  and  all  were  giving  an 
impulse  to  the  cause  of  freedom  such  as  the  noblest 
efforts  of  previous  advocates  had  never  been  able 
to  accomplish. 

It  was  an  assault  upon  a  more  practicable  level, — 
reaching  the  conscience  of  the  nation  through  the 
pleasures  of  cultivated  taste,  and  making  the  cause 
of  sound  morals  and  humane  institutions  accord 
with  the  highest  literary  art.  Then  it  was  seen 
that  "the  stars  in  their  courses  fought  against 
Sisera."  The  notion  of  "  vested  rights "  in  man 
givw  absurd.  The  clergy  lost  their  conservatism 
or  timidity.  Party  spirit  had  declined.  The  North 
had  the  lead  in  Kansas  and  Nebraska,  —  thanks  to 
emigration  societies,  and  to  the  wholesome  respect 
for  Sharpens  rifles  in  the  hands  of  brave  settlers. 
The  long  supremacy  of  Slavery  was  coming  to  an 
end,  and  every  thinking  man  felt  that  great  events 
were  in  the  air. 

The  leading  writers  of  the  "Atlantic"  were 
social,  and  were  accustomed  to  dine  together  once 
a  month ;  but  Whittier,  who  was  abstemious  from 
necessity  and  habit,  seldom  came  to  the  dinners. 
On  account  of  delicate  health  he  had  accustomed 


218  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

himself  to  simple  fare,  and  lie  never  tasted  wine 
or  used  tobacco ;  so  that  the  meeting,  so  attractive 
to  others,  had  few  charms  for  him  beyond  social 
converse.  In  fact  he  seldom  came  to  Boston,  but 
sent  his  poems  and  received  proofs  by  mail.  His 
care  over  the  productions  of  his  brain  never  ceased, 
and  it  was  seldom  that  a  poem  was  printed  as 
originally  written.  The  poem  upon  laying  the 
Atlantic  cable  had  been  received,  and  was  in  type, 
when  a  letter  came  from  him,  dated  September  10, 
1858,  addressed  to  the  author  of  this  sketch,  in 
which  are  the  following  sentences :  — 

DEAR  FRIEND,  —  In  my  haste,  yesterday,  I  omitted 
an  idea  which  seems  to  me  necessary  to  my  little  poem 
on  the  Great  Wire.  After  the  fifth  verse  add  the  follow 
ing: — 

"  Through  Orient  seas,  o'er  Afric's  plain 

And  Asian  mountains  borne, 
The  vigor  of  the  Northern  brain 
Shall  nerve  the  world  outworn. 

"  From  clime  to  clime,  from  shore  to  shore, 

Shall  thrill  the  magic  thread  ; 
The  new  Prometheus  steals  once  more 
The  fire  that  wakes  the  dead." 

On  another  occasion  (May  4, 1858)  he  wrote :  — 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  —  I  am  heartily  obliged  to  thee 
for  thy  kind  suggestions.  But  see  what  has  been  the  re 
sult  of  them  !  Is  the  piece  better  or  worse  ?  Who  knows ! 


Literal  lire  and  Reform    umlcd.         219 

My  sister  thinks  she  does,  and  that  I  have  altered  for  the 
better.  I  hope  it  \\ill  strike  thee  and  Lowell  in  the  same 
\\ay.  The  sweep  and  rhythm  please  me,  but  1  have  had 
hard  work  to  keep  down  my  indignation.  I  feel  a  good 
deal  more  like  a  wild  Bersark  than  like  a  carpet  minstrel 
4%  with  his  singing  robes  about  him,"  when  recording  atro 
cities  like  that  of  "The  Swan's  Marsh."  .  .  .  There  is 
not  a  dull  page  in  the  la.-t  ••  Atlantic"  If  it  could  only 
IK-  kept  up  to  that  point,  it  would  take  the  precedence,  by 
right,  of  all  magazines  on  either  side  of  the  water. 

February  12, 1858,  he  wrote  :  — 
"  Dr.  Ilolmes's   '  Autocrat '  is  thrice   excellent ;    the 
little  poem  at  the  close  is  booked  for  immortality." 

The  poem  referred  to  is  "  The  Chambered  Nau 
tilus." 

January  20, 1858,  he  wrote  :  — 

DEAR  FRIEND,  —  Some  days  ago  I  sent  my  friend 
Lowell  a  ropy  of  some  lines,  —  "The  Pipes  at  Lucknow." 
...  If  he  submitted  them  to  thee,  and  there  is  any 
probability  of  their  appearance  in  the  "  Monthly,"  I  would 
like  to  make  an  alteration  in  the  last  four  lines  of  the  first 
stanza,  substituting  these  :  — 

"  Not  the  braes  of  broom  and  heather, 
Xor  the  mountains  dark  with  rain, 
Nor  strath,  nor  lake,  nor  frith-side 
Have  heard  their  sweetest  strain." 

And  I  would  like,  also,  to  add  the  following  stanza  after 
the  one  closing  with 

"  Dinna  ye  hear  it?  —  'T  is  the  slogan  I 
AY  ill  ye  110  believe  it  1100?" — 


22O  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  Like  the  march  of  soundless  music 

Through  the  vision  of  the  seer, 
More  of  feeling  than  of  hearing, 

Of  the  heart  than  of  the  ear, 
She  knew  the  droning  pibroch, 

She  knew  the  Campbell's  call : 
Hark !  hear  ye  no  MacGregor's,  — 

The  grandest  o'  them  all ! " 

In  the  very  striking  poem  entitled  "  Skipper 
Ireson's  Ride,"  the  refrain  was  originally  written 
without  use  of  the  odd  Marblehead  dialect.  His 
attention  was  called  to  this,  and  he  adopted  the 
phrases  which  the  people  of  the  old  time  would 
have  used :  — 

"  Here  's  Flud  Oirson,  fur  his  horrd  horrt 
Torred  an'  futherr'd  an'  corr'd  in  a  corrt 
By  the  women  o'  Morble'ead  !  " 

He  wrote,  December  6, 1857  :  — 

"  I  thank  thee  for  sending  the  proof,  with  thy  sugges 
tions.  I  adopt  them,  as  thou  wilt  see,  mainly.  It  is  an 
improvement.  As  it  stands  now,  I  like  the  thing  well,  — 
1  hugely,'  as  Captain  Shandy  would  say." 

There  was  a  peaceful  breathing-time  before  the 
war.  In  1860  appeared  a  volume  of  "  Home  Bal 
lads,  Poems,  and  Lyrics."  The  volume  is  prefaced 
by  a  beautiful  dedicatory  poem  to  some  unnamed 
friend  of  the  poet's  youth.  "  The  Witch's  Daugh 
ter  "  has  the  first  place.  This  is  founded  upon  a 


Literal (',-•    and  luf<>nu  vn'd«L  221 

tradition  of  the  neighborhood,  and  it  is  believed 
that  the  story  is  substantially  true.  The  house  of 
the  heroine's  father,  in  Amesbury,  was  standing 
not  many  yearfl  MLT<>,  and  tin-  site  is  still  to  be  seen. 
This  is  one  of  the  most  charming  of  Whittier's 
pastorals,  set  with  an  intuitive  sense  of  fitness  in 
bright  landscapes,  full  of  masterly  natural  touches, 
and  breathing  through  all  a  noble  and  humane 
spirit.  At  a  later  period  the  same  poem,  some 
what  lengthened,  was  published  as  a  holiday  book, 
entitled  "  Mabel  Martin,"  with  numerous  pictures 
of  scenes  in  the  neighborhood  where  the  events 
took  place. 

"  The  Prophecy  of  Samuel  Sewall "  is  rich  in 
historic  allusion,  and  in  traits  of  the  early  times; 
and  as  the  Diary  of  this  celebrated  judge  has  now 
been  printed  entire,  the  picturesque  poem  will  be 
read  with  renewed  interest  and  under  a  new  light. 

"  The  Sycamores,"  the  "  Occidental  plane-trees," 
of  which  only  a  few  arc  now  remaining,  were 
planted  on  the  highway  opposite  the  old  Salton- 
stall  mansion,  a  short  distance  from  Haverhill. 

"  Kenoza  Lake  "  lies  near  Haverhill,  enclosed  in 
a  public  park.  In  Chase's  History  it  is  mentioned 
that  a  meeting  of  citizens  was  held  August  31, 1859, 
in  favor  of  the  improvement  and  re-naming  of 
the  "  Fish  House  Lot."  Trees  were  set  out  to  the 


222  John  Grcenlcaf  Whittier. 

number  of  two  hundred  and  fifty,  and  a  fence  was 
erected.  Whittier  gave  the  name  Kenoza,  which, 
in  the  Indian  tongue,  signifies  "pickerel."  The 
park  was  opened  with  appropriate  ceremonies,  and 
the  poem  was  read  on  the  occasion. 

The  poem  "  To  G.  B.  C."  is  a  tribute  to  the 
celebrated  preacher  and  editor,  Rev.  George  B. 
Cheever. 

"  The  Preacher "  is  an  account  of  the  famous 
revivalist,  Whitefield,  who,  after  his  labors  in 
Georgia,  came  to  Massachusetts  and  finished  his 
work  in  Newburyport,  where  his  remains  lie  be 
neath  the  church  that  bears  his  name. 

"  Brown  of  Ossawatomie "  relates  a  touching 
anecdote  of  John  Brown  when  on  his  way  to  exe 
cution.  Some  mention  is  made  of  him,  and  of  his 
ill-judged  attempt  to  free  the  slaves,  in  the  present 
chapter. 

In  the  very  striking  poem,  "  From  Perugia,"  as 
well  as  in  others  preceding,  such  as  "  The  Peace 
of  Europe  "  and  "  The  Prisoners  of  Naples,"  we  see 
the  deep  interest  which  Whittier  took  in  the  up 
risings  in  Europe  in  1848.  We  know  that  his  feel 
ings  could  not  be  so  stirred  against  the  Catholic 
Church  on  any  religious  ground,  for  he  is  of  all 
men  most  tolerant  in  the  matter  of  religious  be 
liefs  ;  but  the  tremendous  heat  in  which  he  wrought 


Literature  (did  Reform  willed.          223 

these  lines  was  excited  by  sympathy  for  (lie  vic 
tims  of  despotic  government.  The  sentiment  of 
justice  in  him  has  not  been  confined  to  any  coun 
try  nor  race  of  men.  A  democrat  pure  and  simple, 
he  has  advocated  the  equality  of  men  everywhere 
before  the  law  ;  a  believer  in  the  primitive  Chris 
tianity  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  he  has  striven 
to  recognize  in  all  men  his  brothers.  When  the 
Pope  (Pius  IX.)  joined  with  Russian  Emperor, 
Austrian  Kaiser,  "  Bomba "  of  Naples,  and  the 
"  crowned  scandal  "  Louis  Napoleon,  —  "  barnacle 
on  the  dead  renown  "  of  his  uncle,  —  to  put  down 
the  hopes  of  liberty-loving  men,  raised  momen 
tarily  by  the  successes  of  1848,  and  to  inflict  the 
bloody  and  remorseless  punishments  that  every 
where  followed  the  reactionary  movement,  the 
head  of  the  Church  could  not  shelter  himself  by 
any  ecclesiastical  subterfuges.  He  and  Cardinal 
Antonelli  were  as  distinctly  responsible  for  the 
"  retributions  "  in  the  Papal  States  as  was  the  in 
famous  Napoleon  III.  for  the  daily  massacres  in 
the  doomed  Faubourg  of  Saint-Antoine  that  fol 
lowed  his  treacherous  coup  d'etat. 

We  have  seen  before  that  whenever  the  lives 
and  liberties  of  men  were  concerned,  Whittier 
never  hesitated.  He  was  always  to  be  found  on 
the  side  of  the  oppressed.  And  though  hitherto 


224  John  Greenkaf  Whittier. 

the  voices  of  the  wise  and  humane  have  availed 
little  with  the  masters  of  armies,  yet  we  must  be 
lieve  that  an  equipoise  will  some  time  be  reached,  — 
a  time  when  despots  cannot  control  the  ever  in 
creasing  number  of  free  spirits  in  the  nations. 

At  this  point  it  may  be  well  to  attend  to  some 
historical  events. 

A  most  profound  impression  was  produced  in 
both  hemispheres  by  the  attempt  of  John  Brown 
to  incite  an  insurrection  of  slaves  at  Harper's 
Ferry.  He  belonged  to  a  plain  Massachusetts 
family  that  traced  its  origin  to  one  of  the  Pil 
grims  of  the  "  Mayflower."  He  was  a  simple, 
hard-working,  God-fearing  man,  abhorring  war  and 
slavery ;  and  in  peaceful  times  would  probably  have 
lived  and  died  in  some  village  in  New  England  or 
Ohio,  known  only  as  a  self-reliant,  just,  and  blame 
less  citizen.  But  he  had  long  meditated  upon  the 
radical  injustice  of  slavery,  especially  in  the  lonely 
home  he  had  established  on  the  borders  of  the  wild 
Adirondack  region.  His  mind  took  a  fixed  direc 
tion,  and  everything  with  him  became  secondary 
to  the  one  purpose  for  which  he  lived.  This  pur 
pose  grew  and  dominated  all  his  actions,  so  that  it 
might  be  called  by  calmer  men  a  symptom  of  in 
sanity.  But  it  was  far  from  the  madness  which 
prevails  in  asylums.  It  was  rather  a  singleness  of 


Literahtre  and  Reform  united.          225 

aim  such  as  inspired  Joan  of  Arc,  George  Fox,  and 
other  immortal  visionaries.  The  time  \vas  full  of 
thrilling  events.  Northern  men,  pushing  into  Kan 
sas,  were  murdered  hy  hands  of  guerillas.  These, 
in  turn,  were  pursued  and  shot,  and  still  the  re 
lentless  warfare  went  on.  Brown's  four  sons  were 
in  these  frays,  and  on  several  occasions  he  ap 
peared  with  them,  and  by  his  intrepidity  and  mas 
terly  conduct  he  inflicted  terrible  loss  on  bodies  of 
armed  men  far  larger  than  his  own.  Once,  with 
only  thirty  men,  at  Ossawatomie,  he  held  at  bay  a 
force  of  five  hundred,  until  he  made  a  retreat  in 
safety.  This  gave  him  the  name  of  Ossawatomie 
Brown.  A  full  account  of  his  doings  in  those 
years  would  fill  a  volume. 

A  deeper  scheme  was  in  his  mind.  He  had  be 
come  interested  in  many  escaped  slaves,  who  were 
naturally  the  most  courageous  of  their  class,  and 
he  conceive* I  the  idea  of  arming  the  colored  people 
of  the  South,  and  leading  them  to  establish  their 
freedom.  For  this  end  he  visited  Boston  and  other 
places  in  Xew  England,  and  devoted  his  efforts  to 
raising  money.  His  real  aim  was  known  only  to 
himself ;  those  who  aided  him  with  money  sup 
posed  they  were  contributing  for  the  defence  of 
free  settlers  in  Kan 

The  writer  of  these  pages  well  remembers  seeinir 


226  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

him  in  Boston.  He  went  little  abroad,  but  re 
ceived  a  great  many  visits  from  anti-slavery  men. 
He  was  below  the  middle  size,  lean  and  sinewy. 
His  long  hair,  nearly  gray,  was  combed  back  in  a 
smooth  mass,  leaving  a  clear,  high  forehead,  and 
below  it  a  pair  of  wonderful  gray  eyes.  His  man 
ner  had  a  singular  deliberation,  under  which  the 
surging  of  a  fiery  soul  was  apparent.  He  related 
some  of  his  exploits,  and  calmly  told  of  the  retri 
bution  that  had  fallen  upon  the  slayers  of  his  sons. 
In  describing  the  pitiful  massacres  he  had  wit 
nessed,  and  the  sufferings  of  his  sons'  families,  his 
voice  never  faltered,  no  tears  dimmed  his  steady 
eyes.  There  was  an  inward  fire,  however,  of  which 
his  measured  words  gave  no  sign.  He  was  a  re 
markable  man,  with  every  trait  that  goes  to  make 
up  a  hero,  except  for  the  lack  of  sound  judgment. 

He  recruited  and  drilled  a  little  force  in  Kansas, 
—  less  than  twenty  men,  —  and  when  they  were 
ready  he  informed  them,  for  the  first  time,  that  the 
field  of  operations  was  to  be  in  Virginia,  at  Har 
per's  Ferry,  where  was  a  large  and  well-stocked 
armory. 

The  attempt  was  made,  as  all  readers  of  our 
history  know,  and  it  was  unsuccessful.  The  ne 
groes  had  none  of  the  qualities  necessary  for  carry 
ing  on  a  war  of  insurrection.  The  small  band 


Literature  and  llcform  united.          227 

gathered  no  recruits  of  any  consequence,  and,  after 
fighting  like  heroes,  the  survivors  surrendered  and 
met  their  fate.  The  attack  was  made  October  16, 
1859 ;  on  the  19th  Brown  was  placed  in  the  jail  at 
Charlestown,  desperately  wounded,  and  having  lost 
both  of  his  sons  in  the  conflict. 

Mrs.  Child  wrote  to  Governor  Wise  asking  per 
mission  to  visit  Brown  in  prison,  and  to  minister 
to  his  wants ;  to  which  the  Governor  replied  in  a 
caustic  letter  which  he  evidently  supposed  would 
leave  nothing  for  her  to  say.  But  she  returned  to 
the  contest  with  an  unexpected  ardor,  and  by  her 
logic,  wit,  and  great-hearted  eloquence  completely 
vanquished  her  opponent.  These  letters  were 
printed  in  a  pamphlet,  of  which  more  than  three 
hundred  thousand  copies  were  sold. 

At  this  time  Whittier  was  deeply  exercised  in 
mind.  Much  as  he  hated  slavery,  he  was  equally 
opposed  to  war,  and  the  method  of  John  Brown 
could  not  be  countenanced  by  a  consistent  Friend. 
He  wrote  Mrs.  Child  as  follows  :  — 

OCTOBER  21,  1859. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  —  I  was  glad  to  get  a  line  from  thee, 
and  glad  of  the  opportunity  it  affords  me  and  my  sister  to 
f.\]iivs>  our  admiration  of  thy  generous  sympathy  with  tin- 
lirtNf.  Inn.  \vi-  think,  sadly  ini-i_Mii«l«-»l  Captain  Brown. 
"We  feel  deeply  (who  does  not?)  for  the  noble-heart.  <1, 
self-sacrificing  old  man.  But,  as  friends  of  peace  as  well 


228  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

as  freedom,  as  believers  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  we 
dare  not  lend  any  countenance  to  such  attempts  as  that  at 
Harper's  Ferry. 

I  hope  in  our  admiration  of  the  noble  traits  of  John 
Brown's  character  we  shall  be  careful  how  we  encourage 
a  repetition  of  his  rash  and  ill-judged  movement.  Thou 
and  I  believe  in  "  a  more  excellent  way."  I  have  just 
been  looking  at  one  of  the  pikes  sent  here  by  a  friend  in 
Baltimore.  It  is  not  a  Christian  weapon;  it  looks  too 
much  like  murder. 

God  is  now  putting  our  non-resistance  principles  to  a 
severe  test.  I  hope  we  shall  not  give  the  lie  to  our  life 
long  professions.  I  quite  agree  with  thee  that  we  must 
judge  of  Brown  by  his  standard ;  but  at  the  same  time  we 
must  be  true  to  our  own  settled  convictions,  and  to  the 
duty  we  owe  to  humanity. 

Thou  wilt  see  how  difficult  it  is  for  me  to  write  as  thee 
request.  My  heart  is  too  heavy  and  sorrowful.  I  cannot 
write  now,  and  can  only  wait  with  fervent  prayer  that  the 
cause  we  love  may  receive  no  detriment. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

IN  WAR  TIME. 

Upburst  of  Patriotic  Feeling.  —  Letters  from  "Whittier,  1861.  — 
Fremont's  Noble  Error.  —  The  Port  Royal  Negroes'  Song.  — 
Poems  of  the  Period  influenced  by  the  War.  —  Barbara  Frietchie. 
—  Colonel  Robert  G.  Shaw.  —  Whittier  opposes  Execution  for 
Treason.  —  Convention  of  Abolitionists  at  Philadelphia.  — 
Whittier's  Letter. 


fTMIE  breaking  out  of  the  civil  war  in  1861  ab 
sorbed  all  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  made 
everything  subordinate  to  the  central  idea  of  pa 
triotism.  It  was  in  its  time  of  peril  that  the  great 
ness  of  the  Republic  was  revealed.  The  ideal 
nation,  one  and  indivisible,  was  an  object  of  uncal- 
culating  loyalty,  of  an  almost  passionate  pride,  and 
even  of  reverence.  "  God  and  our  country,"  com 
bined  in  equipoise,  was  no  mere  figure  of  speech. 
The  occasion  lifted  common  men  into  heroes.  The 
great  souls  whose  lineaments  are  preserved  in  Plu 
tarch's  Lives  might  have  been  paralleled  in  many 
a  shop  or  forge  or  farmhouse.  Life  and  treasure 
were  of  no  value  but  for  the  country's  sake.  The 


230  John  Greenkaf  Whittier. 

lover  left  his  mistress,  the  husband  his  wife  and 
children.  Delicately  nurtured  men  endured  the 
fatigues,  privations,  and  squalor  of  camps  without 
murmur.  Wounds,  maiming,  prisons,  and  hos 
pitals  were  encountered  as  gayly  as  if  they  had 
been  incidents  of  a  holiday  fete. 

The  lurid  splendor  of  that  war  !  See  it  in  verses 
of  poets,  that  seem  struggling  between  pity,  horror, 
and  heroic  resolve!  When  did  the  world  behold 
such  a  spectacle  ?  The  vast  masses  arrayed,  the 
enormous  energy  developed,  the  great  principles  in 
issue,  and  the  momentous  results  depending,  all 
combined  to  make  this  the  most  tremendous  and 
probably  the  most  important  of  all  wars  in  history. 
For  this  was  not  a  question  of  national  boundaries, 
of  dispute  between  rival  dynasties,  nor  of  the 
subjugation  of  alien  States  to  an  imperial  will ;  it 
was  the  establishment  of  the  central  idea  of  the 
Republic,  —  of  the  supremacy  of  democracy  ;  it  was 
the  overthrow  of  a  privileged  and  dominant  class, 
and  leaving  to  all  men  equality  of  rights  and  duties. 
It  was  the  necessary  corollary  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  the  vindication  of  the  Golden  Rule, 
making  ethics  the  practical  basis  of  constitution 
and  law. 

We  can  see  now  that  this  bloody  arbitrament  was 
inevitable.  The  fathers  had  temporized ;  later,  their 


In  War  Time.  231 

sons  compromised ;  but  to  no  purpose.  Freedom 
and  shivery  were  imt  to  coexist  ;  one  must  destroy 
the  «>tht-r.  Forty  years  ago,  in  specula tinir  upon 
the  future  of  America,  the  opponents  of  slavery 
used  to  imagine  that  centuries  would  pass  before 
the  leiral  distinctions  as  to  color  and  race  would  be 
removed.  It  was  supposed  that  slavery  might  im 
perceptibly  fade  away,  as  villanage  slowly  faded 
in  England,  —  as  the  distinction  between  Norman 
lords  and  Saxon  churls  died  out.  It  was  thought 
that  long  before  political  equality  could  be  estab 
lished  in  the  South  the  bulk  of  its  population 
would  be  a  bronzed  mass,  like  the  progeny  of 
Spaniards,  natives,  and  negroes  in  Mexico. 

The  habits  of  the  Southern  people  fitted  them 
for  war.  They  lived  in  the  open  air,  rode  like  Per 
sians  or  Indians,  were  familiar  with  weapons  both 
in  hunting  and  in  private  quarrels ;  and  their  free 
spirits,  grown  turbulent  from  mastership,  were 
moved  at  will  by  the  fiery  party  leaders,  whose  im- 
promptu  utterances  in  groves  and  wayside  places 
have  iriven  us  the  descriptive  epithet  of  "  stump- 
s] .raking."  Such  a  people,  fierce  for  constitutional 
and  prescriptive  rights,  were  naturally  first  to  take 
up  arms. 

The  Northern  men,  living  in  sight  of  BOhoolhousea 
and  within  sound  of  church  hells,  accustomed  to 


232  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

no  sharper  encounters  than  were  afforded  by  the 
annual  "  town-meeting,"  unused  to  arms  since  the 
War  of  1812,  — with  their  "  May  training"  turned 
into  a  good-natured  burlesque,  their  muskets  of 
antique  pattern,  and  their  habits  wholly  bucolic  and 
unwarlike, —  were  taken  with  a  dazed  surprise. 
A  concerted,  vigorous,  aggressive  movement  on  the 
part  of  a  few  improvised  Southern  armies  at  the 
beginning  might  have  taken  the  great  Northern 
cities,  and  enabled  their  generals  to  dictate  terms 
to  the  Government  at  Washington. 

But  the  Rebels  fortunately  resisted  the  Govern 
ment  on  their  own  ground,  thereby  drawing  upon 
themselves  all  the  horrors  they  had  prepared  for 
their  foes,  and,  what  was  more,  giving  time  for  the 
unarmed  North  to  equip,  drill,  and  forward  its  end 
less  regiments.  The  courage  on  both  sides  was 
equal,  when  blood  was  up ;  and  that  being  the  case, 
the  North,  with  its  vastly  superior  numbers  and 
resources,  was  sure  to  win  in  the  end,  —  even  if  in 
the  terrible  game  man  for  man  were  to  be  sternly 
sacrificed. 

How  abhorrent  all  this  was  to  the  soul  of  a  sin 
cere  Quaker  need  not  be  said.  War  to  him  was 
only  murder.  As  the  preparations  were  made  and 
the  regiments  departed,  the  feeling  became  intense 
and  agonizing.  He  knew  that  only  a  solemn  sense 


In  War  Time.  233 

of  duty  could  chau-jv  tlir  peaceful  farmers  jind 
artisans  of  the  North  into  crusaders  for  liberty. 
But  he  could  not  favor  the  coercion  of  the  South  by 
war.  This  will  be  seen  in  the  poem,  "A  Word  for 
the  Hour,"  written  in  January,  1861.  The  feel 
ing  is  shown  more  fully  in  the  letter  following, 
addressed  to  the  author:  — 

AMESBURY,  7th  2d  mo.  1861. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  —  I  wish  I  could  answer  thy  letter 
in  the  ailinnative :  I  should  only  be  too  glad  to  join  with 
thee  and  others  at  this  time  in  aid  of  our  "  good  old  cause." 
But  I  am  really  very  ill,  —  so  much  so  that  the  writing  of 
a  brief  note  like  this  causes  me  a  great  deal  of  pain.  .  .  . 

For  myself,  I  would  like  to  maintain  the  Union  if  it 
could  IK-  the  Union  of  our  fathers.  But  if  it  is  to  be  in 
name  only;  if  the  sacrifices  arid  concessions  upon  whirh 
it  lives  must  all  be  made  by  the  Free  States  to  the  Slave 
States ;  if  the  peaceful  victories  of  the  ballot-box  are  to 
be  turned  into  defeats  by  threats  of  secession ;  if  rebellion 
and  treason  are  to  be  encouraged  into  a  standing  menace, 
a  power  above  law  and  constitution,  demanding  perpetual 
sacrifices,  —  I,  for  one,  shall  not  lift  a  hand  against  its 
dissolution.  As  for  fighting,  in  any  event,  to  force  back 
the  seceders,  I  see  no  sense  in  it.  Let  them  go  on  with 
thi-ir  mad  experiment,  —  the  Government  simply  holding 
its  own,  and  enforcing  its  revenue  laws  until  this  whole 
matUT  can  be  fairly  submitted  to  the  people  for  their  iinal 
adjudication. 

In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Child,  dated  April  1, 1861,  he 
wrote :  — 


234  John  G-reenlcaf  Whittier. 

"  I  cannot  but  hope  that  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  poli 
ticians  and  compromisers,  the  Great  Nuisance  is  to  fall 
off  from  us,  and  we  are  to  be  a  free  people." 

The  poem  to  John  C.  Fremont  — 

"  Thy  error,  Fremont,  simply  was  to  act 
A  brave  man's  part  without  the  statesman's  tact "  — 

recalls  an  incident  in  the  early  part  of  the  war, 
when  Fremont  was  in  command  of  the  department 
of  the  West.  Numbers  of  escaped  slaves  came  into 
his  lines,  and  he  issued  a  proclamation,  August  31, 
1861,  declaring  all  such  to  be  free.  President 
Lincoln,  who  had  then  much  to  learn  about  the 
objects  of  the  war,  annulled  Fremont's  proclama 
tion,  and  three  months  afterwards  relieved  him 
from  the  command. 

The  poem  was  evidently  written  about  the  date 
of  the  following  letter  to  Mrs.  Child  :  — 

AMESBIJIIY,  10th  of  9th  mo.  [1861]. 

I  fully  agree  with  thee  as  to  the  duty  of  the  Gov 
ernment,  and  so  far  as  I  can  I  shall  try  to  urge  that 
duty.  If  this  war  is  not  for  emancipation,  it  is  both 
wicked  and  ridiculous.  The  war  of  the  Fronde  in 
France  was  wise  in  comparison.  I  am  afraid  the  Gov 
ernment  will  tie  up  the  hands  of  Fremont.  I  was  just 
thinking  of  trying  to  thank  him  for  his  noble  word  "free," 
when  lo !  the  papers  this  morning  bring  us  Lincoln's  let 
ter  to  him,  repudiating  the  grand  utterance.  Well,  if  the 


In  \Vttr  Time.  235 

contix-ati'd  slaves  are  not  free,  then  the  Government  has 
turned  ,-davrholder,  that  is  all. 

1  am  sick  of  politicians.  I  know  and  appreciate  the 
Lfivat  ditlirulties  ill  the  way  of  the  administration,  hut  I 
see  neither  honesty  nor  worldly  wisdom  in  attempting  to 
ignore  the  cause  of  f/«'  tnmlil,: 

Thev  tell  us  \ve  must  trust,  and  have  patience:  and 
I  do  not  like  to  lind  fault  with  tin-  administration,  as  in 
so  doini:  I  S'-'-IH  to  take  Mdrs  with  the  secession  sympa 
thizers  of  the  North. 

I  thank  thee  for  thy  anecdotes  of  the  "  contrabands." 
If  I  can  do  anything  in  prose  or  verse  to  aid  the  cause, 
I  shall  be  <rlad. 

I  wish  somebody  would  write  a  song  worthy  of  the 
ami  the  cause  ;  I  am  not  able  to  do  it. 


Nevertheless,  the  suggestion  made  by  Mrs.  Child 
seems  to  have  had  its  influence.  After  the  taking 
of  Port  Royal,  and  the  occupation  of  the  sea-islands 
l>i  'tween  Charleston  and  Savannah,  the  slaves  of 
the  coast  were  practically  freed  without  proclama 
tion.  The  intercourse  among  the  islands  was  al 
most  wholly  by  boats,  and  the  negroes  were  expert 
oarsmen.  It  is  true,  also,  that  they  habitually 
sun--,  keeping  time  with  the  strokes.  But  though 
there  might  be  occasional  gleams  of  humor  in  their 
rude  verses,  jin  actual  copy  in  print  of  what  they 
sung  would  be  insipid  and  tedious.  The  author  of 
"  Uncle  Remus  "  would  imitate  the  real  negro  min 
strelsy  far  better  than  Whittier  has  done.  For 


236  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Whittier  has  filled  the  lines  with  good  sense  and 
point,  and  with  the  suggestions  that  belong  to  as 
piring  minds,  while  in  fact  the  mental  horizon 
hangs  low  over  these  black  anachronisms,  and  very 
few  of  them  could  be  made  to  understand  the  song, 
to  say  nothing  of  composing  or  singing  it. 

But  Whittier  is  right.  A  song  in  imitation  of 
the  boatmen's  solos,  with  their  monotonous  re 
frains,  would  be  vapid.  This  is  what  the  boatmen 
should  have  sung,  if  they  had  possessed  the  intel 
ligence.  In  a  similar  way  we  approve  of  speeches 
at  certain  critical  points  in  the  action  of  a  play, 
while  we  know  that  if  such  a  scene  were  actually 
to  happen,  not  a  word  beyond  a  monosyllable  would 
have  been  uttered.  No  art  is  ever  wholly  free  from 
the  conventional. 

Mrs.  Child  was  greatly  fascinated  by  the  song, 
and  sat  down  to  write  Whittier,  we  should  imag 
ine,  on  the  very  day  it  appeared  in  the  "  Atlantic  " 
(February,  1862).  At  all  events,  her  letter  is  dated 
January  21. 

"  But  that  Negro  Boat  Song  at  Port  Royal !  How 
I  have  chuckled  over  it  and  sighed  over  it !  I  keep 
repeating  it  morning,  noon,  and  night;  and,  I  believe, 
with  almost  as  much  satisfaction  as  the  slaves  them 
selves  would  do.  It  is  a  complete  embodiment  of  African 
humor,  and  expressed  as  they  would  express  it,  if  they 
were  learned  in  the  mysteries  of  rhyme  and  rhythm.  .  .  . 


In  War  Time.  237 

What  a  glorious,  bleeted  gift  i-  this  of  song,  with  which 
you  are  so  lavishly  endowed  !  Who  can  calculate  its 
influence,  which  you  always  exert  for  good!  My  David, 
who  always  rejoices  over  your  writings,  was  especially 
plra-ed  with  the  Boat  Song,  which  ho  prophesies  will  be 
sung  ere  long  by  thousands  of  darkies.  ..." 

The  war  poems  are  not  numerous,  The  position 
of  an  advocate  of  peace  must  have  been  particu- 
larlv  tryinir,  even  with  the  glorious  object  of  free 
dom  in  view :  — 

"  Wherever  Freedom's  vanguard  goes, 
Where  stand  or  fall  her  friends  or  foes, 
/  know  the  place  that  should  be  mine. 

"  O  brothers !  blest  by  partial  Fate 

With  power  to  match  the  will  and  deed, 
To  him  your  summons  comes  too  late 
Who  sinks  beneath  his  armor's  weight, 
And  has  no  answer  but  God-speed  !  " 

During  this  terrible  time  of  suspense  Whittier  is 
seen  at  his  best  in  poems  which  show  his  reliance 
upon  the  Divine  Providence,  as  in  "  Thy  Will  be 
Done,"  "  The  Battle  Autumn  of  1862,"  "  Ein  feste 
Burg  ist  unser  Gott,"  and  "  The  Watchers."  The 
solemn  appeals  to  God,  and  the  sublime  trust  in 
the  final  triumph  of  riirht,  affect  the  reader  with  a 
sense  of  exaltation.  While  the  great  thoughts  are 
in  mind,  heroism  appears  to  be  the  simple  and  nat 
ural  attribute  of  man. 


238  John  Grreenleaf  Whittier. 

The  miscellaneous  poems  in  the  volume  "  In 
War  Time "  are  nearly  all  affected  by  the  pre 
vailing  sadness  and  anxiety.  Some  line  or  coup 
let,  or,  it  may  be,  an  epithet,  shows  the  drift  of 
the  poet's  mind. 

Thus  in  the  prelude  to  the  ballad  "  Amy  Went- 
worth,"  dedicated  to  William  Bradford,  the  marine 
painter,  the  author  apologizes  for  having  the  heart 
to  write  of  anything  but  the  nation's  trial :  — 

"  Let  none  upbraid  us  that  the  waves  entice 
Thy  sea-dipped  pencil,  —  or  some  quaint  device, 
Rhythmic  and  sweet,  beguiles  my  pen  away 
From  the  sharp  strifes  and  sorrows  of  to-day." 

So,  in  "  Mountain  Pictures,"  after  sketching  the 
grandeur  of  Franconia  in  a  storm,  he  exclaims  :  — 

"  So,  let  me  hope,  the  battle-storm  that  beats 
The  land  with  hail  and  fire  may  pass  away 
With  its  spent  thunders  at  the  break  of  day, 
Like  last  night's  clouds,  and  leave,  as  it  retreats, 
A  greener  earth  and  fairer  sky  behind, 
Blown  crystal-clear  by  Freedom's  Northern  wind !  " 

At  the  summer  festival  at  "The  Laurels"  he 
remembers  that 

"  The  drum  rolls  loud,  —  the  bugle  fills 

The  summer  air  with  clangor  ; 
The  war-storm  shakes  the  solid  hills 
Beneath  its  tread  of  anger." 

And  after  his  aspiration  for  the  freedom  of  Italy 
comes  the  calm  expression  of  faith  :  — 


In  War  Time.  239 

"Yet,  surely  as  lie  lives  tin-  day 

Of  peace  He  pnmii.-ed  >liall  be  ours, 

To  fold  tin?  lla^s  of  war,  and  lay 

Its  sword  and  spear  to  rust  away, 

And  sow  its  ghastly  fields  with  flowers !  " 

"  Barbara  Frietchie  "  is  the  only  romantic  ballad 
suggested  by  tbe  war,  in  this  collection.  The  clear- 
cut  lines,  terse  descriptions,  and  heroic  tone  made 
the  poem  universally  popular  ;  and  the  name  of 
the  brave  old  German  woman  will  be  remembered 
while  the  country  lasts.  Some  doubt  was  thrown 
upon  the  truth  of  the  story,  but  its  substantial  cor 
rectness  has  been  established. 

Of  the  departure  of  regiments  —  the  pomp  and 
pride  and  circumstance  of  war — we  see  nothing  in 
Whittier's  poems.  His  abhorrence  of  slaughter 
was  innate,  and  the  splendor  of  the  movement  of 
vast  masses  had  no  charms  for  a  devotee  of  peace. 
But  when  the  Fifty-fourth  Massachusetts  regiment 
of  colored  troops  marched  away,  headed  by  Colonel 
Robert  G.  Shaw  (afterwards  killed  at  the  assault 
on  Fort  Wagner),  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Child  :  — 

"  I  shall  never  forget  the  scene.  As  [Colonel  Shaw] 
rode  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  the  flower  of  grace  and 
chivalry,  he  seemed  to  me  beautiful  arid  awful  us  an  angel 
of  God  come  down  to  lead  the  hosts  of  freedom  to  victory. 
I  have  longed  to  speak  the  emotions  of  that  hour,  but  I 
dar.-d  not,  lest  I  should  give  a  new  impulse  to  war." 


240  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Before  leaving  the  subject  of  the  war,  we  quote 
from  a  letter  written  by  Whittier  to  Mrs.  Child, 
dated  May  31,  1865,  in  which,  after  commending 
her  work,  "  The  Progress  of  Religious  Ideas,"  he 
mentions  the  Vice-President,  Andrew  Johnson,  as 
having  the  old  Jacksonian  strength  of  will.  He 
says : — 

"  There  is  no  fear  that  slavery  is  not  to  be  utterly  anni 
hilated  and  ground  into  powder  under  his  heel.  What  I 
fear  is  that  he  is  not  quite  democratic  enough  to  give  the 
black  man  the  suffrage.  .  .  .  But  the  safety  of  the  negro 
is  in  the  fact,  more  and  more  apparent,  that  there  is  no 
possibility  of  a  safe  reconstruction  of  the  States  without 
his  vote.  This  will  be  perceived ;  and  we  shall  be  com 
pelled,  as  a  matter  of  self-interest,  to  do  justice  to  the 
loyal  black  man." 

The  humane  spirit  has  been  always  in  the  ascend 
ant  in  the  mind  of  Whittier.  In  the  letter  before 
quoted,  doubtless  referring  to  the  prospective  trials 
of  Rebels  for  treason,  he  says  :  — 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  thy  views  about  capital  punish 
ment.  I  almost  feared  that,  as  in  the  case  of  others  of 
my  friends,  the  events  of  the  last  few  years  had  changed 
thy  views.  I  hope  we  shall  have  no  unnecessary  hangings 
to  gratify  an  evil  desire  of  revenge." 

Some  personal  references  in  the  poems  under 
consideration  remain  to  be  noticed.  "  The  Coun 
tess  "  is  inscribed  to  "  E.  W.,"  —  namely,  to  Dr. 


In   War  Time.  241 

Elias  Wold,  of  llavrrhill,  the  physician  of  the 
Whittirr  1'ainily,  \\lio  was  very  kind  and  useful  to 
the  poet  in  his  youth  by  lending  him  books.  There 
is  a  iiTuvr  of  a  tit  KM]  lady  in  the  old  burying-ground 
above  Rocks  Uriilu''-.  and  the  inscription  upon  the 
ancient  headstone  is  the  foundation  of  this  poem. 

"A  Memorial.  M.  A.  C."  was  written  upon  the 
death  of  Moses  A.  Cartland,  of  Lee,  N.  H.  His 
grandmother,  Phoebe  Hussey  Austin,  was  sister  to 
Whittier's  maternal  grandfather,  Joseph  Hussey. 
The  Cartlands  are  among  the  "  hospitable  cousins  " 
mentioned  in  Whittier's  prose  sketch,  "Yankee 
Gypsies."  "  The  River  Path  "  is  that  leading  from 
Haverhill  to  Amcsbury. 

During  this  period,  "In  War  Time,"  there  oc 
curred  a  memorable  celebration,  the  thirtieth  an 
niversary  of  the  foundation  of  the  American  Anti- 
slavery  Society,  at  Philadelphia,  December  3  and 
4,  1863.  There  was  a  large  attendance  of  the 
honored  friends  of  the  cause,  and  the  proceedings 
were  marked  by  a  dignity  and  solemnity  seldom 
witnessed.  The  address  of  the  presiding  officer, 
Mr.  Garrison,  was  wonderfully  impressive,  leading 
all  to  see  the  signs  of  approaching  triumph.  One 
paragraph  should  perhaps  be  quoted. 

"  It  is  no  longer  a  question  confined  to  a  few  humble 
individuals  as  against  a  mighty  nation ;  but  it  is  a  nation 

16 


242  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

rocking  as  by  an  earthquake,  in  travail  with  this  tremen 
dous  issue.  And  now,  instead  of  words,  the  question  is 
debated  on  the  battle-field  at  the  cannon's  mouth ;  and  un 
doubtedly,  through  this  war  of  judgment,  God  means  to 
vouchsafe  deliverance  to  all  in  bondage. 

"  Welcome  and  benediction,  upon  this  thrilling  and  joy 
ous  occasion,  to  those  who  entered  earliest  into  the  field 
of  labor ;  who  have  gone  through  with  all  its  toils,  its 
sufferings,  its  sacrifices,  and  its  perils ;  and  who  have  been 
graciously  permitted  to  live  to  see  this  gladsome  day !  " 

Mr.  Whittier  was  unable  to  attend,  on  account  of 
ill  health,  but  sent  a  letter.  Before  reading  it, 
Mr.  Garrison  mentioned  the  poet  as  one  "known 
and  honored  throughout  the  civilized  world."  He 
continued :  — 

"  I  have  no  words  to  express  my  sense  of  the  value  of 
his  services.  There  are  few  living  who  have  done  so 
much  to  operate  upon  the  public  mind  and  conscience  and 
heart  of  our  country  for  the  abolition  of  slavery  as  John 
Greenleaf  Whittier." 

The  letter  is  substantially  as  follows,  omitting 
only  the  regrets  for  not  being  able  to  be  present :  — 

"...  I  look  back  over  thirty  years,  and  call  to  mind 
all  the  circumstances  of  my  journey  to  Philadelphia  in 
company  with  thyself  and  the  excellent  Dr.  Thurston,  of 
Maine,  even  then,  as  we  thought,  an  old  man,  but  still  liv 
ing,  and  true  as  ever  to  the  good  cause.  I  recall  the  early 
gray  morning  when,  with  Samuel  J.  May,  our  colleague 
on  the  committee  to  prepare  a  Declaration  of  Sentiments 


In  War  Time.  243 

for  tho  Convention,  I  climbed  to  the  small  'upper  chain- 
ber  '  of  A  Colored  friend  tO  hear   thee   read   the   first   draft 
of  a  paper  which  will  live  as  long  as  our  national  history. 
I  see  the  members  of  the  Convention,  solemnized  by  the 
iv-p.>iisibility,  rise,  one  by  one,  and  silently  affix  their 
names  to  that  .stern  pledge  of  fidelity  to  freedom.     Of  the 
signers,  many  have  passed  away  from  earth,  a  few  have 
faltered  and  turned  back,  but  I  believe  the  majority  still 
live  to  rejoice  over  the  great  triumphs  of  truth  and  justice, 
and  to  devote  what  remains  of  time  and  strength  to  the 
cause  to  which  they  consecrated  their  youth  and  manhood 
thirty  years  ago.    For  while  we  may  well  thank  God,  and 
congratulate  one  another  on  the  prospect  of  the  speedy 
emancipation  of  the  slaves  of  the  United  States,  we  must 
not  for  a  moment  forget  that  from  this  hour  new  and 
mighty  responsibilities  devolve  upon  us  to  aid,  direct,  and 
educate  these  millions,  left  free   indeed,  but  bewildered, 
ignorant,  naked,  and  foodless,  in  the  wild  chaos  of  civil 
war.     We  have  to  undo  the  accumulated  wrongs   of  two 
centuries ;  to  remake  the  manhood  that  slavery  has  well- 
nigh  unmade ;  to  see  to  it  that  the  long-oppressed  colored 
man  has  a  fair  field  for  development  and   improvement, 
and  to  tread  under  our  feet  the  last  vestige  of  that  hateful 
prejudice  which  has  been  the  strongest  external  support  of 
Southern   slavery.     We  must  lift  ourselves  at  once  to  the 
true  Christian  altitude  where  all  distinctions  of  black  arid 
white  are  overlooked  in  the  heart-felt  recognition  of  the 
brotherhood  of  man. 

"  I  must  not  close  this  letter  without  confessing  that  I 
cannot  be  sufficiently  thankful  to  the  Divine  Providence 
which,  in  a  great  mea>iiiv  through  thy  instrumentality, 


244  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

turned  me  so  early  away  from  what  Roger  Williams  calls 
1  the  world's  great  trinity,  pleasure,  profit,  and  honor,' 
to  take  side  with  the  poor  and  oppressed.  I  am  not  insen 
sible  to  literary  reputation  ;  I  love,  perhaps,  too  well  the 
praise  and  good  will  of  my  fellow-men ;  but  I  set  a  higher 
value  on  my  name  as  appended  to  the  Anti-slavery  Decla 
ration  ofl833  than  on  the  titlepage  of  any  book. 

"  Looking  over  a  life  marked  by  many  errors  and 
shortcomings,  I  rejoice  that  I  have  been  able  to  maintain 
the  pledge  of  that  signature,  and  that  in  the  long  interven 
ing  years 

*  My  voice,  though  not  the  loudest,  has  been  heard 
Wherever  Freedom  raised  her  cry  of  pain.' 

"  Let  me,  through  thee,  extend  a  warm  greeting  to  the 
friends,  whether  of  our  own  or  the  new  generation,  who 
may  assemble  on  the  occasion  of  commemoration.  For 
thyself,  I  need  not  say  that  the  love  and  esteem  of  early 
boyhood  have  lost  nothing  by  the  test  of  time." 

It  is  a  matter  of  history  that  on  the  New  Year 
immediately  following,  the  President's  proclamation 
put  an  end  to  slavery  ;  and  if  there  were  any  doubts 
as  to  his  power  to  do  this,  the  question  was  forever 
settled  at  the  close  of  the  war  by  the  amendments 
to  the  Constitution. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

POEMS   IN   TIME   OF   PEACE. 

Snow  Bound"  the  Clearest  Expression  of  Whittier's  Genius. - 
"The  Tent  on  the  Beach."  -  Sketches  of  Fields  and  Bayard 
Taylor.  —  Pictures  of  Sea  from  Shore.  —"The  Grave  by  the 
Lake."— The  Atlantic  Cable.  —The  Duke  of  Argyll.  -  "  National 
Lyrics." -Intense  Religious  Feeling.  -  "The  Vanishers."  - 
Bryant.  —  Thomas  Starr  King. 

NOW  BOUND,"  the  most  vivid  and  character- 
istic  picture  of  country  life  in  that  older  New 
England  now  far  retreating  with  its  forest  lines,  was 
published  in  18G6.  The  fame  of  the  author  had 
been  steadily  growing  to  continental  proportions. 
The  war  had  made  freedom  national,  and  had  shown 
in  a  new  and  ennobling  light  the  ante-bellum  "  fa- 
nat  ics  "  and  "  abolition-bards."  Perhaps  it  would  be 
more  just  to  say  that  the  liberation  of  men's  minds 
from  the  bondage  to  Southern  opinion  —  so  long 
dominant  in  American  letters  as  well  as  in  trade 
and  politics  —  served  to  quicken  their  perception 
and  judgment  so  as  to  let  the  genius  of  poets  like 
Whittier  and  Lowell,  of  novelists  like  Mrs.  Stowe 


246  John  Greenleaf  Wkittier. 

and  Mrs.  Child,  and  of  orators  like  Phillips  and 
Garrison,  appear  in  their  own  proper  splendor. 
Before  the  triumph  of  moral  ideas,  any  writer  identi 
fied  with  Abolitionists  or  Free-Soilers  was  regarded 
with  feelings  that  wavered  between  pity  and  con 
tempt.  That  time  passed  forever,  and  our  litera 
ture  was  delivered  from  a  subserviency  that  had 
dwarfed  and  demoralized  it. 

"  Snow  Bound  "  is  perhaps  the  clearest  expres 
sion  of  Whittier's  genius.  In  a  former  chapter 
large  parts  of  the  poem  were  quoted  to  illustrate 
"  A  Quaker  Home,"  and  it  will  not  be  necessary  to 
comment  further  upon  it  at  present.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  say  that  after  the  publication  of  this 
beautiful  idyl  Whittier  became  one  of  the  most 
famous  of  modern  poets,  and  probably  the  best  be 
loved  of  any.  Its  success  in  every  way  was  enor 
mous,  and  its  popularity  continues  without  any 
intimation  of  decline. 

"The  Tent  on  the  Beach"  appeared  in  186T. 
The  framework  is  simple  and  natural.  The  poet 
and  his  two  friends,  Bayard  Taylor  and  James  T. 
Fields,  are  encamped  on  Salisbury  beach  ;  and,  in 
sight  of  the  broad  bay,  with  the  mouth  of  the  Mer- 
rimac  on  the  one  hand  and  the  Isles  of  Shoals  and 
Boar's  Head  on  the  other,  they  tell  tales  of  old 
times ;  meanwhile  they  watch  the  white  specks  of 


Poenis  in  Time  of  Peace.  247 

sails,  or  see  the  lift  of  the  dim  horizon,  or  wonder 
at  tin1  miruuv  that  suspends  the  far  rocky  isles  as 
if  their  pinnacles  were  about  to  plunge  downward 
into  the  main. 

The  proem  is  saddened  by  the  memory  of  recent 
griefs,  and  bids  us  think  of  the  poet's  "  enforced 
leisure  of  slow  pain,"  and  the  dear 

••  Memory  of  one  who  might  have  tuned  his  song 
To  sweeter  music  by  her  delicate  ear." 

The  friends  (Whittier,  Bayard  Taylor,  and  James 
T.  Fields)  are  pleasantly  sketched.1  We  see  Fields, 
"  with  his  beard  scarce  silvered,"  "  a  lettered  mag 
nate," 

"  In  whom  brain-currents,  near  and  far, 
Converged  as  in  a  Ley  den  jar  ;  " 

1  Bayard  Taylor,  an  editor,  traveller,  poet,  and  translator,  — 
one  of  the  most  able,  industrious,  and  accomplished  literary  men 
of  our  day,  was  a  frequent  visitor  of  the  Whittier  family,  and  was 
greatly  beloved  by  them,  as  the  references  in  this  poem  testify.  He 
died  in  Berlin,  December  19,  1878,  while  Minister  of  the  United 
States  to  the  Court  of  the  German  Empire. 

James  T.  Fields,  a  prominent  and  successful  publisher,  also  an 
author  of  merit,  was  well  known  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic, 
and  had  probably  a  larger  acquaintance  with  literary  celebrities 
than  any  person  in  this  century.  His  position  between  the  usually 
jealous  or  hostile  camps  of  authors  and  publishers  was  unprece 
dented  ;  and  he  had  the  rare  honor  of  being  heartily  esteemed  in 
both.  His  death  (April  24,  1881),  when  lie  had  scarcely  passed 
his  prime,  and  when  so  many  reminiscences  were  yet  to  be  expected 
from  his  pen,  was  greatly  lamented.  Both  Taylor  and  Fields  were 
far  younger  than  Whittier,  and  both  had  fair  prospects  of  higher 
accomplishment  and  lengthened  life. 


248  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

and  we  recognize  the  unequalled  opportunities  for 
literary  fellowship  he  had  enjoyed  :  — 

"  Pleasant  it  was  to  roam  about 

The  lettered  world  as  he  had  done, 
And  see  the  lords  of  song  without 

Their  singing  robes  and  garlands  on. 
With  Wordsworth  paddle  Rydal  mere, 
Taste  rugged  Elliott's  home-brewed  beer, 
And  with  the  ears  of  Rogers,  at  fourscore, 
Hear  Garrick's  buskined  tread  and  Walpole's  wit  once  more." 

Of  himself  Whittier  writes  :  — 

"  And  one  there  was,  a  dreamer  born, 

Who,  with  a  mission  to  fulfil, 
Had  left  the  Muses'  haunts  to  turn 

The  crank  of  an  opinion-mill, 
Making  his  rustic  reed  of  song 
A  weapon  in  the  war  with  wrong. 

"  The  common  air  was  thick  with  dreams,  — 

He  told  them  to  the  toiling  crowd ; 
Such  music  as  the  woods  and  streams 

Sang  in  his  ear  he  sang  aloud  ; 
In  still,  shut  bays,  on  windy  capes, 
He  heard  the  call  of  beckoning  shapes, 
And,  as  the  gray  old  shadows  prompted  him, 
To  homely  moulds  of  rhyme  he  shaped  their  legends  grim." 

The  picture  of  Taylor, 

"  Whose  Arab  face  was  tanned 
By  tropic  sun  and  boreal  frost," 

is  striking  and  just :  — 

"  The  very  waves  that  washed  the  sand 
Below  him,  he  had  seen  before 


Poems  in  Time  of  Peace.  249 

Whitening  tlu*  Scandinavian  strand 

And  sultry  Mauritanian  shore. 
From  ice-rimmed  isles,  from  summer  seas 
r:dm-f  ringed,  they  bore-  him  messages; 
He  heard  tin-  plaintive  Nubian  songs  again,     • 
And  mule-bells  tinkling  down  the  mountain-paths  of  Spain." 

"  His  memory  round  tin-  ransacked  earth 
On  Puck's  air-girdle  slid  at  ease ; 

Yet  loved  the  while,  that  free  cosmopolite, 

Old  friends,  old  ways,  and  kept  his  boyhood's  dreams  in  sight." 

The  descriptions  of  the  immense  gray  beach  and 
of  the  neighboring  people  are  done  with  sharp, 
decisive  strokes.  If  they  fished,  we  see  them 

*•  With  an  old  Triton  at  the  oar, 
Salt  as  the  sea-wind,  tough  and  dried 
As  a  lean  cusk  from  Labrador." 

"  And  there,  on  breezy  morns,  they  saw 
The  fishing-schooners  outward  run, 
Their  low-bent  sails,  in  tack  and  flaw, 
Turned  white  or  dark  to  shade  and  sun. 


"  Sometimes  a  cloud,  with  thunder  black, 

Stooped  low  upon  the  darkening  main, 
Piercing  the  waves  along  its  track 
With  the  slant  javelins  of  rain." 

And  "  when  the  sunset  splendors  died,"  they  saw 

"In  lines  outreaching  far  and  wide 

The  white-maned  billows  sweep  to  land, 
Dim  seen  across  the  gathering  shade, 
A  vast  and  ghostly  cavalcad. -.*' 


250  John  Greenkaf  Whittier. 

Luminous  lines  are  these,  gleaming  with  the  light  of 
genius,  and  destined  to  arrest  the  eyes  of  coming 
generations.  Throughout  this  whole  series  of 
poems,  so  artlessly  grouped  together,  are  innumer 
able  touches  of  a  true  poet's  plastic  hand. 

Most  of  the  pieces  appeared  separately,  and  at 
wide  intervals,  in  the  "  Atlantic  Monthly."  Thus 
the  poem  upon  the  ocean  cable  was  printed  in  the 
second  volume,  the  "  Wreck  of  Blvermouth  "  in  the 
thirteenth,  "  The  Grave  by  the  Lake  "  in  the  fif 
teenth,  "  The  Brother  of  Mercy  "  in  the  thirteenth, 
"  The  Changeling "  in  the  sixteenth,  "  The  Pala 
tine  "  in  the  nineteenth. 

"  The  Grave  by  the  Lake  "  is  founded  upon  the 
tradition  that  on  the  bank  of  Winnepesaukee,  near 
Melvin  stream,  under  a  mound  surrounded  by  a 
circle  of  huge  stones,  were  found  the  bones  of  an 
Indian  who  when  living  must  have  been  seven 
feet  in  height. 

"  Who  that  Titan  cromlech  fills  ? 
Forest-kaiser,  lord  o'  the  hills? 
Knight  who  on  the  birchen  tree 
Carved  his  savage  heraldry  ? 
Priest  o'  the  pine-wood  temples  dim, 
Prophet,  sage,  or  wizard  grim?" 

The  measure  binds  the  poet  to  utter  his  thought 
in  briefest  and  most  pungent  phrase  ;  and  many 
of  the  stanzas  have  a  condensation  of  energy,  as  if 


Poems  in  Time  of  Peace.  251 

proverbs  and  Orphic  responses  had  put  themselves 
in  swift  maivhins  order  at  his  call.  So  many  stan 
zas,  in  fact,  give  these  electric  thrills  as  we  read,, 
that  a  selection  is  difficult.  We  must  venture :  — 

«  Part  thy  blue  lips,  Northern  lake  ! 
M-s-grown  rocks,  your  silence  break  1 
Tell  the  tale,  thou  ancient  tree  ! 
Thou,  too,  slide-worn  Ossipee  ! 
Speak,  and  tell  us  how  and  when 
Lived  and  died  this  king  of  men  1 

"  Wordless  moans  the  ancient  pine ; 
Lake  and  mountain  give  no  sign  ; 
Vain  to  trace  this  ring  of  stones ; 
Vain  the  search  of  crumbling  bones  : 
Deepest  of  all  mysteries, 
And  the  saddest,  silence  is. 

«  Nameless,  noteless,  clay  with  clay 
Mingles  slowly  day  by  day ; 
But  somewhere,  for  good  or  ill, 
That  dark  soul  is  living  still ; 
Somewhere  yet  that  atom's  force 
Moves  the  light-poised  universe. 

"Is  the  Unseen  with  >i'_rht  at  odds? 
Nature's  pity  more  than  God's  ? 

"  O  the  generations  old 
Over  whom  no  church-bells  tolled, 
Chri>tless,  lifting  up  blind  eyes 
To  the  >ilrnre  of  tlu-  skies  ! 
For  the  innumerable  dead 
Is  my  soul  disquieted. 


252  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  Where  be  now  these  silent  hosts  ? 
Where  the  camping-ground  of  ghosts  ? 
Where  the  spectral  conscripts  led 
To  the  white  tents  of  the  dead  ? 
What  strange  shore  or  chartless  sea 
Holds  the  awful  mystery  ? 

"  What  is  whispered  by  the  trees  ? 
'  Cast  on  God  thy  care  for  these. 

"  *  Not  with  hatred's  undertow 
Doth  the  Love  Eternal  flow.' 

"  Therefore  well  may  Nature  keep 
Equal  faith  with  all  who  sleep." 

This  is  the  concluding  stanza  :  — 

"  Keep,  O  pleasant  Melvin  stream, 
Thy  sweet  laugh  in  shade  and  gleam ! 
On  the  Indian's  grassy  tomb 
Swing,  O  flowers,  your  bells  of  bloom ! 
Deep  below,  as  high  above, 
Sweeps  the  circle  of  God's  love." 

It  is  only  a  sober  statement,  that  this  poem  is 
one  of  which  the  greatest  living  man  might  be 
proud.  The  impressive  scene,  the  far-reaching 
thoughts  suggested,  the  deep  yearning  of  humanity, 
and  the  unfaltering  faith,  are  characteristic  of  the 
high  regions  to  which  genius  leads  us ;  and  as  we 
read  we  feel  as  if  we  are  made  free  in  an  immortal 
realm. 


Poems  in  Time  of  Peace.  253 

"  The  Maids  of  Attitash  "  is  a  poem  containing  a 
double  love-story.  Attitash,  which  in  the  Indian 
tongue  signifies  "  wlim-tli-ln-iTy,"  is  the  name  of  a 
large  and  beautiful  lake  in  the  northern  part  of 
Amesbury.  The  maids  were  berrying,  and  exchang 
ing  maidenly  confidences.  Near  by  was  a  farmer 
mowing,  and  there  was  also  a  sportsman  throwing 
his  line  for  fish. 

"  The  supreme  hours  unnoted  come ; 
ITnfelt  the  turning  tides  of  doom : 
And  so  the  maids  laughed  on, 
Nor  dreamed  what  Fate  had  done,  — 

"  Xor  knew  the  step  was  Destiny's 
That  rustled  in  the  birchen  trees, 
As,  with  their  lives  forecast, 
Fisher  and  mower  passed." 

The  poem  upon  the  Atlantic  cable  has  been  often 
quoted,  and  is  familiar  to  all  readers.  It  is  a  noble 
strain  of  prophecy  of  peace  on  earth  and  good  will 
to  men. 

Mr.  George  B.  Prescott  copied  this  poem  from 
the  "  Atlantic "  in  his  "  History  of  the  Electric 
Telegraph;"  and  when  Mr.  Whittier's  volume  ap 
peared,  some  years  later,  the  poet  was  charged 
with  plagiarism!  The  matter,  however, was  easily 
explained. 

At  a  banquet  given  in  London,  in  1868,  to  Cyrus 
W.  Field,  the  chief  American  promoter  of  the 


254  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

undertaking,  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  who  presided, 
read  this  poem,  introducing  it  as  follows :  — 

"  I  trust  you  will  allow  me  to  read  to  you  some  striking 
and  beautiful  lines  in  which  this  expedition  has  been  com 
memorated  and  these  feelings  expressed  by  that  eminent 
Quaker  poet  of  America,  Mr.  Whittier.  .  .  .  They  are 
very  noble  lines,  and  express  finely  and  solemnly  the 
great  hopes  then  entertained,  and  which  I  rejoice  to  think 
have  now  been  fulfilled."  1 

The  recitation  of  the  poem  was  followed  by  cheers 
from  the  eminent  guests  assembled  on  the  occasion 
from  all  parts  of  the  United  Kingdom. 

The  "  National  Lyrics  "  that  follow  in  this  vol 
ume  suggest  the  absorbing  interest  felt  in  the  issues 
of  the  civil  war.  "  The  Mantle  of  St.  John  de 
Matha,"  by  which  his  vessel  is  carried  to  a  Chris 
tian  shore,  has  the  colors  of  red,  white,  and  blue. 
"  What  the  Birds  said "  is  the  report  from  the 
South  of  fields  of  slaughter :  — 

"  They  sang,  '  The  land  we  leave  behind 

Has  swords  for  corn-blades,  blood  for  dew.* 

"  '  In  shrouds  of  moss,  in  cypress  swamps, 
We  saw  your  dead  uncoffined  lie.' 

"  « We  heard/  they  sang,  <  the  freedman's  song, 
The  crash  of  Slavery's  broken  locks ! ' 

1  Boston  Daily  Advertiser,  November  4,  1874. 


Poems  in  Time  of  Peace.  255 

"  So  to  me,  in  a  doubtful  day 

Of  chill  and  slowly  greening  spring, 
Low  stooping  from  the  cloudy  gray, 
The  wild  birds  sang  or  seemed  to  sing. 

"  Tht'v  vanished  in  the  misty  air; 

The  song  went  with  them  in  their  flight ; 
But  lo !  they  left  the  sunset  fair, 
And  in  the  evening  there  was  liijlit." 

"  Laus  Deo !  "  is  the  voice  of  gratitude  and  exul 
tation  at  the  passage  of  the  constitutional  amend 
ment  abolishing  slavery.  It  is  a  Miriam's  song  of 
praise  and  thanksgiving,  and  is  clad,  as  is  proper, 
largely  in  scriptural  phrases. 

"  The  Peace  Autumn  "  (1865)  is  full  of  the  same 
glad  thankfulness.  The  poem  addressed  to  the 
Thirty-Ninth  Congress  is  an  appeal  for  wise  and 
liberal  legislation,  —  for  equal  laws  for  black  and 
white,  and  for  amnesty  to  the  conquered. 

To  the  Southern  leaders  he  says  :  — 

"  Alas  !    no  victor's  pride  is  ours  ; 
\\r  bend  above  our  triumphs  won 
Like  David  o'er  his  rebel  son. 

"  Be  men,  not  beggars.     Cancel  all 

By  one  brave,  generous  action  ;  tru-t. 
Your  better  instincts,  and  !»«•  just ! 

••  .Make  all  men  peers  before  the  law; 

Take  hands  from  off  the  negro's  throat ; 
Give  black  and  white  an  equal  vote." 


256  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

This  will  recall  Whittier's   letter  to   Mrs.   Child, 
quoted  in  a  preceding  chapter. 

The  "  Occasional  Poems,"  which  follow,  are  char 
acterized  by  an  intense  religious  feeling  which  melts 
the  heart  of  any  man  who  has  lived  among  primi 
tive  Christians  and  known  what  simple  and  natural 
piety  is.  "  The  Eternal  Goodness "  and  "  Our 
Master,"  —  what  can  we  say  of  such  poems  that 
will  reveal  the  secret  of  their  power  ?  The  gentler 
portions  of  the  Psalms,  the  plaintive  call  upon  God 
heard  in  the  hymns  of  Cowper  and  Wesley  and 
Madame  Guyon,  and  all  the  deep  and  soul-moving 
utterances  of  the  saints  of  all  ages,  such  as  Thomas 
a  Kempis,  seem  to  be  blent  in  these  exquisite  verses. 
In  an  age  of  doubt  and  intellectual  pride  on  the 
one  hand,  and  of  formalism  or  bigotry  on  the  other, 
they  seem  to  come  as  a  new  litany,  a  new  confes 
sion  of  sublime  faith,  a  new  aspiration  for  the  union 
of  all  created  souls  in  the  Divine.  The  thought 
and  feeling  are  one  ;  there  is  no  seeking  for  effect, 
no  parade  of  epithets,  no  conscious  moulding  of 
verse  into  stately  form ;  but  the  movement  from 
stanza  to  stanza  is  as  natural  as  the  outflow  of  an 
inspired  voice.  The  extreme  simplicity  seems  bald 
and  prosaic  to  worldly  men,  —  the  simplicity  which 
is  of  the  very  essence  of  an  emotional  mind  in  its 
highest  state,  wrought  upon  by  the  spirit  of  God. 


Poems  in  Time  of  Peace.  257 

Comparing  these  sweet  and  holy  utterances  of 
the  soul  with  most  of  the  logical  <|ii;it  rains  which 
prosaic  verse-makers  have  jointed  and  framed  to- 
nvihtT  for  the  service  of  song  is  like  turning  from 
the  fresh  and  dewy  lilies  of  the  field  to  their  muslin 
counterfeits.  Such  piety  is  as  rare  in  our  time  as 
is  such  poetry;  but  it  is  an  essential  part  of  the 
life,  as  it  is  of  the  writings,  of  Whittier. 

His  work  in  this  world,  the  reader  cannot  fail 
to  see,  has  been  inspired  always  by  God  and  human 
ity.  Justice  and  reverence  first,  love  and  sym 
pathy  attending,  and  conscience  keeping  guard  over 
thought  and  act.  And  his  poetry  has  come  from 
the  same  impulse  that  led  him  to  labor  for  the 
slave,  and  to  desire  the  light  of  God's  countenance 
as  his  sole  reward.  Well  may  he  say  :  — 

••  And  so  beside  the  Silent  Sea 

I  wait  the  muffled  oar ; 
No  harm  from  Him  can  come  to  me 
On  ocean  or  on  shore. 

"  I  know  not  where  His  islands  lift 

Their  f ronded  palms  in  air ; 
I  only  know  I  cannot  drift 
Beyond  1 1  is  love  and  care. 

"  O  brothers  !  if  my  faith  is  vain, 

If  hopes  like  tlir-r  In-tray. 
Pray  for  me  that  my  feet  may  gain 
The  sure  and  safer  way. 
17 


258  John  G-reenleaf  Whittier. 

"  And  Thou,  O  Lord  !  by  whom  are  seen 

Thy  creatures  as  they  be, 
Forgive  me  if  too  close  I  lean 
My  human  heart  on  Thee  1  " 

"  The  Yanishers  "  is  the  title  of  a  poem  founded 
on  an  Indian  legend,  full  of  touching  suggestions, 
but  elusive,  and  leading  into  the  unknown  realm 
beyond.  It  resembles  somewhat  —  but  only  in  a 
similar  lightness  of  touch  —  the  remarkable  poem 
by  Emerson,  called  "The  Forerunners."  The 
thought  of  separation  from  those  who  had  preceded 
him  in  the  way  to  the  Silent  Land  is  apparent  in 
every  line. 

"  Revisited  "  is  a  poem  read  at  the  annual  gather 
ing  at  "The  Laurels"  (before  mentioned),  on  the 
south  bank  of  the  Merrimac,  not  far  from  Newbury- 
port.  It  is  an  apostrophe  to  the  noble  river,  joyous 
in  spirit,  bounding  in  musical  rhythm,  and  brilliant 
with  landscapes  that  a  painter  might  copy.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  cheerful  and  inspiring  of  the  later 
poems,  and  sets  the  blood  in  motion  with  its  jubi 
lant  dactyls,  and  images  of  living  beauty  :  — 

"  Bring  us  the  airs  of  hills  and  forests, 

The  sweet  aroma  of  birch  and  pine ; 
Give  us  a  waft  of  the  north-wind,  laden 
With  sweet-brier  odors  and  breath  of  kine ! 

"  Bring  us  the  purple  of  mountain  sunsets, 
Shadows  of  clouds  that  rake  the  hills, 


Poems  in  Time  of  Peace.  259 


Tin-  Lnven  repose  of  th\  Plymouth  meadows, 

The  Lrleam  and  ripple  of  Campion  rills. 

"  Shatter  in  sunshine  over  thy  ledges, 

Laugh  in  tin  plunges  from  fall  to  fall  ; 

Plav  with  thv  fringes  of  elms,  and  darken 

Under  the  shade  of  the  mountain  wall. 

"  The  cradle-song  of  thy  hillside  fountains 

Here  in  thy  glory  and  strength  repeat  ; 
Give  us  a  taste  of  thy  upland  music, 
Show  us  the  dance  of  thy  silver  feet." 

"  To  Bryant  on  his  Birthday,"  originally  pub 
lished  in  the  New  York  "  Independent,"  November 
24,  1864,  is  a  rare  tribute  to  a  poet,  because  it  rec 
ognizes  his  manhood,  and  his  long  service  in  the 
cause  of  freedom,  as  giving  higher  renown  than 
even  his  noble  verses  :  — 

"  We  praise  not  now  the  poet's  art, 
The  rounded  beauty  of  his  song  ; 
Who  weighs  him  from  his  life  apart 
Must  do  his  nobler  nature  wrong." 

He  compares  him  with  Wordsworth  in  his  love  of 
nature,  and  characterizes  his  "rapt  hymn"  and 
"  woodland  lay  "  as 

"  Too  grave  for  smiles,  too  sweet  for  tears." 

This  was  in  1864,  while  the  war  still  raged,  and 
while  patriotism  was  the  only  stop  in  the  poet's 
inst  i-ument  never  shut.  Therefore  he  exclaims  :  — 


260  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  When  Peace  brings  Freedom  in  her  train, 

Let  happy  lips  his  songs  rehearse  ;    " 
His  life  is  now  his  noblest  strain, 
His  manhood  better  than  his  verse." 

The  last  poems  in  this  series  relate  to  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Starr  King,  a  man  of  unusual  power  and 
fervor,  a  devoted  friend  of  our  poet,  and,  like  him, 
a  lover  of  natural  scenery.  While  a  resident  of 
Boston  he  had  given  much  time  to  the  exploration 
of  the  White  Mountains  of  New  Hampshire,  and 
had  written  the  best  descriptions  of  that  picturesque 
region.  He  was,  at  the  time  the  poem  was  first 
published  (January  21, 1864),  minister  of  a  church 
in  California.  His  ardent  patriotism  and  glowing 
eloquence  had  full  employment  outside  of  his 
pulpit;  for  California  was  full  of  Southern  emis 
saries,  and  there  was  a  vehement  effort  to  turn  the 
State  over  to  the  Rebel  side.  The  vast  distance 
from  the  Atlantic  States  had  stretched  her  ties  of 
interest  and  of  sympathy  with  the  Union  almost  to 
the  point  of  breaking.  Other  ambitious  politicians 
were  urging  that  this  was  the  time  to  establish 
a  new  and  independent  confederation  of  Pacific 
States.  Meanwhile  the  central  Government  at 
Washington  had  its  hands  already  full,  and  could 
not  make  its  power  felt  in  any  effective  way  across 
the  Rocky  Mountains.  Mr.  King  labored  inces 
santly,  and  held  audiences  everywhere  by  his  mar- 


Poem*  in  Time  of  Peace.  261 

vellous  power  of  speech,  and  by  the  magnetism  of 
his  presence.  To  his  efforts,  and  to  the  completion 
of  the  transcontinental  railway,  through  the  en 
ergy  of  Oakes  Ames  of  Massachusetts,  the  United 
States  owe  the  preservation  of  this  important  part 
of  their  wide  domain. 

Few  men  in  their  capacity  as  simple  citizens  have 
ever  had  the  opportunity  to  do  such  service. 

With  this  introduction,  readers  at  a  distance  will 
better  perceive  the  significance  of  Whittier's  poems. 
Readers  in  New  England  and  in  California  who  are 
old  enough  to  remember  the  war  will  need  no  intro 
duction  to  Thomas  Starr  King. 

Thus  it  was  that  Whittier's  invocation  began  :- 

"  Amidst  these  glorious  works  of  thine, 

The  solemn  minarets  of  the  pine 
And  awful  Shasta' s  icy  shrine." 

The  closing  lines  of  the  lament  for  the  death  of 
the  patriot  preacher  present  a  fine  summary  of  his 
great  service :  — 

"  O  East  and  West !    O  morn  and  sunset,  twain 
No  more  forever! — has  he  lived  in  vain 
Who,  priest  of  Freedom,  made  ye  one,  and  told 
Your  bridal  service  from  his  lips  of  gold  ?  " 


CHAPTER  iVIL 


Realistic  Scenes.  —  Country  Life.  —  Bearcamp  River.  —  The  Ossi- 
pee  Mountains. — A  Famous  Literary  Woman. — "Miriam." 
—  The  tiny  School-girl's  artless  Confession. — "Ring,  bells  in 
unreared  steeples  !  "  —  "A  Spiritual  Manifestation."  —  Pasto- 
rius  in  Arcadian  Days.  —  Alice  and  Phoebe  Gary. 

"  A  MONG  the  Hills,"  published  in  1868,  is  a 
pretty  and  melodious  love-story,  with  a 
strongly  realistic  prelude.  The  romantic  or  pic 
torial  side  of  rural  life  is  contrasted  with  its  reverse 
of  narrow  ways,  prosaic  discomfort,  and  unlovely 
personal  traits.  The  poet  shows  himself 

'    "A  farmer's  son 

Proud  of  field-lore  and  harvest  craft,  and  feeling 
All  their  fine  possibilities." 

He  calls  to  mind 

"  Old  homesteads,  where  no  flower 

Told  that  the  spring  had  come,  but  evil  weeds, 
Nightshade  and  rough-leaved  burdock  in  the  place 
Of  the  sweet  doorway  greeting  of  the  rose  ; " 

"  The  curtainless  windows  from  whose  panes 
Fluttered  the  signal  rags  of  shiftlessness  ;  " 


"Among  the  lEUs"  263 

also  the  "best  room,"  "bookless,  pirturelcss," 
"Save-  t!u-  iiH-\  italiK-  sampler  bung 

Cher  tin-  fhvphuv. 

"And.  in  sad  keeping  with  all  things  about  them, 
Shrill,  querulous  women,  sour  and  sullen  men, 
t'ntidy.  loveless,  old  before  tln-ir  time, 

Blind  to  the  beauty  everywhere  revealed, 
Treading  the  May-flowers  with  regardless  feet ; 

Church-goers,  fearful  of  the  unseen  Powers, 
But  grumbling  over  pulpit-tax  and  pew-rent, 
Saving,  as  shrewd  economists,  their  souls 
And  winter  pi n-k  with  the  least  possible  outlay 
Of  salt  and  sanctity." 

Rightly  he  claims 

"  Our  yeoman  should  be  equal  to  his  home 
Set  in  the  fair,  green  valleys,  purple  walled, 
A  man  to  match  his  mountains,  not  to  creep 
Dwarfed  and  abased  below  them." 

And  so  the  prelude  concludes  with  aspirations  for 
a  higher  and  nobler  life, — for"  home  loves  and  the 
beatitudes,"  "  all  the  old  virtues  "  and  for  a  percep 
tion  of  the  beauty  in  nature,  as  an  outward  type 

"  Of  the  eternal  beauty  which  fulfils 
The  one  great  purpose  of  creation,  Love, 
The  sole  necessity  of  Earth  and  Heaven  1 " 

As  was  intimated,  the  story  itself  is  melodious  and 
tender.  It  is  wonderfully  rich  in  suggestive  lines 


264  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

which  bring  remembered  landscapes  into  brightness. 
Dozens  of  stanzas  succeed,  each  one  of  which  might 
serve  as  the  motto  of  a  picture.  But  the  chief 
interest  invests  the  human  figures.  A  farmer's 
daughter  is  thus  described  :  — 

"  The  sun-brown  farmer  in  his  frock 

Shook  hands,  and  called  to  Mary  : 
Bare-armed,  as  Juno  might,  she  came 
White-aproned  from  her  dairy. 

"  Her  air,  her  smile,  her  motions,  told 

Of  womanly  completeness  ; 
A  music,  as  of  household  songs, 
Was  in  her  voice  of  sweetness. 

"  Not  beautiful  in  curve  and  line 

But  something  more  and  better, 
The  secret  charm  eluding  art, 
Its  spirit,  not  its  letter." 

The  story  is  of  a  delicate  lady  of  city  birth  and 
culture,  and  her  manly  farmer  lover,  showing  how 
the  grace  of  the  one  and  the  firm  poise  of  the  other 
blended  in  an  ideal  union.  Nothing  more  simply 
beautiful  is  to  be  found  in  Whittier's  volumes. 
Summary  and  quotation  are  alike  inadequate  when 
considering  a  picture  so  complete.  It  is  to  be 
received  as  it  is,  the  heart,  rather  than  the  brain, 
keeping  time  with  the  rhythmic  movement.  It  is 
an  instance  of  how  high  above  all  effort  and  artifice 
is  the  unaffected  simplicity  of  genius. 


"Among  ike  Hills:'  265 

The  scene  of  the  poem  is  near  Bearcamp  River, 
close  under  the  shadow  of  Mount  Ossipee,  but  af 
fording  a  magnificent  view  of  the  Chocorua  range. 
The  river,  fringed  with  elms  and  maples,  —  here 
broad  and  quiet,  reflecting  sky,  mountains,  and 
trees,  and  there  brawling  among  boulders,  winds 
through  the  valley,  often  doubling  upon  itself,  and 
receives  the  overflow  of  many  ponds.  Just  below,  it 
is  joined  by  the  Chocorua  stream,  and  together  they 
flow  into  Ossipee  Lake,  which  finds  its  outlet  by 
Ossipee  River  into  the  Saco.  The  maple  thrives  in 
this  region,  and  some  of  these  trees  grow  to  enor 
mous  size.  The  majestic  tree  known  as  the  "  Whit- 
tier  Maple  "  is  perfectly  symmetrical  in  form,  and 
nearly  one  hundred  feet  in  height. 

Here  only  can  the  savage  peak  and  rough  shoul 
ders  of  Chocorua  be  seen  to  advantage.  The  valley 
is  so  broad  that  the  mountain  and  its  fellows  are 
at  the  right  distance  for  scenic  effect.  There  is  an 
atmospheric  bloom  over  all  the  jagged  ridge  which 
is  to  the  eye  like  the  softness  of  velvet,  but  which 
hides  no  outline,  and  does  not  obliterate  the  dis 
tinction  between  rock  and  forest.  The  colors 
change  from  hour  to  hour :  rich  blues  and  dark 
purples  alternate  through  the  day,  varied  with 
cloud  shadows  and  gray-winged  mists. 

A  drive  along  the  Bearcamp  River  to  the  village 


266  JohnGreenleafWhittier. 

of  Sandwich  is  especially  beautiful.  The  river,  with 
its  fringes  of  trees,  is  almost  always  in  sight ;  great 
orchards  are  loaded  with  fruit ;  the  tinkle  of  cow 
bells  is  heard  on  the  mountain  slopes.  The  way 
side  fences  are  festooned  with  clematis  in  bloom. 
The  golden-rod  and  purple  aster  fill  the  spaces 
beside  the  road.  Woodbine  twines  among  the 
trees,  its  leaves  already  aflame  with  the  autumn 
colors. 

Meanwhile  the  mountains  move  slowly  among 
themselves,  changing  their  relative  positions.  Mount 
Whittier,  at  the  left,  assumes  new  dignity  and  grace 
as  it  emerges  from  behind  the  shoulder  of  Ossipee. 
Chocorua,  heretofore  the  dominant  figure  in  the 
group  at  the  right,  yields  precedence  to  loftier 
Whiteface.1 

Whittier's  own  view  of  this  wonderful  landscape 
may  be  seen  in  his  poem,  published  later,  entitled 
"Sunset  on  the  Bearcamp."  One  stanza  may  be 
quoted :  — 

"  Touched  by  a  light  that  hath  no  name, 

A  glory  never  sung, 
Aloft  on  sky  and  mountain  wall 

Are  God's  great  pictures  hung. 
How  changed  the  summits  vast  and  old ! 

No  longer  granite  browed, 

1  The  description  of  this  picturesque  mountain  region  is  abridged 
from  a  letter  in  the  "Portland  Transcript"  by  S.  T.  Pickard,  Esq. 


tin1  7///A-."  267 

They  mi-It  in  msy  mi-t  ;  the  rock 

Is  soft i-r  than  the  cloud. 
The  valley  holds  its  breath  ;  no  leaf 

Of  all  its  elms  is  twirled : 
The  silence  of  eternity 

Seems  falling  on  the  world." 

The  lines  headed  "  G.  L.  S."  are  a  tribute  to 
George  L.  Stearns,  one  of  the  most  energetic  and 
unselfish  of  the  anti-slavery  leaders.  He  was  not  a 
writer,  nor  had  he  the  gift  of  impressive  speech ; 
but  he  was  brave,  generous,  and  full  of  sympathy, 
and  his  sterling  character  and  efficient  service 
brought  him  into  close  relations  with  the  more 
famous  men  of  the  party,  such  as  Sumner,  Theo 
dore  Parker,  and  Dr.  Howe. 

The  "  Lines  on  a  Fly-Leaf  "  furnish  an  instance 
of  Whittier's  clear  insight  and  felicitous  portrait- 
urC)  —  a  picture  of  mind  and  character  rather 
than  of  personal  and  superficial  traits.  When  we 
read, — 

"  Yet,  spite  of  all  the  critics  tell, 
I  frankly  own  I  like  her  well. 
It  may  be  that  she  wields  a  pen 
Too  sharply  nibbed  for  thin-skinned  men, 
That  her  keen  arrows  search  and  try 
The  armor  joints  of  dignity,"  — 

we   have   no   hesitation   in   naming  the    brilliant 
Gail  Hamilton  as  the  subject  of  the  verse.      The 


268  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

feeling  is  hearty  and  buoyant,  and  the  praise  richly 
deserved:  — 

"  Give  me  the  wine  of  thought  whose  bead 
Sparkles  along  the  page  I  read  ; 
Electric  words  in  which  I  find 
The  tonic  of  the  northwest  wind,  — 
The  wisdom  which  itself  allies 
To  sweet  and  pure  humanities, 

The  genial  play  of  mirth  that  lights 
Grave  themes  of  thought." 

The  allusions,  near  the  close,  to  Mrs.  Child,  to 
Grace  Greenwood,  and  to  Mrs.  Stowe  will  be  easily 
recognized. 

"  The  Meeting,"  a  touching  description  of  a  gath 
ering  of  Friends  for  worship,  containing  a  sketch 
of  Avis  Keene,  a  beloved  minister  of  that  body,  has 
been  already  referred  to  in  a  preceding  chapter. 

The  dedication  of  this  volume,  "Among  the 
Hills,"  is  to  Mrs.  Annie  Fields,  wife  of  the  late 
James  T.  Fields,  author  and  publisher,  of  whom 
mention  has  been  made. 

"  Miriam  and  other  Poems,"  which  appeared  two 
years  later,  was  dedicated  to  Frederic  A.  P.  Bar 
nard,  President  of  Columbia  College,  a  gentleman 
who  has  been  distinguished  in  the  cause  of  educa 
tion,  and  who  in  his  youth  wrote  for  the  "  New 
England  Review,"  of  Hartford,  Conn.,  at  the  time 


"Among  the  ////A."  269 

when  Whittior  was  editor.  Miriam  is  the  name 
of  a  Christian  slave,  a  favorite  wife  of  an  Oriental 
monarch,  the  Shah  Akbar,  and  one  who  kept  alive 
(as  best  she  could)  something  of  the  pure-  faith  in 
which  she  had  been  reared.  At  the  command  of 
her  lord  she  told  him  what  she  knew  of  Christ. 
Her  character  prepared  him  to  give  some  credence, 
and  he  quoted  Mohammed's  testimony  :  — 

"  Our  Prophet  saith : 
*  He  was  a  true  apostle,  yea,  a  Word 
And  Spirit  sent  before  me  from  the  Lord.' 
Thus  the  Book  witnesseth ;  and  well  I  know 
By  what  thou  art,  O  dearest,  it  is  so. 
As  the  lute's  tone  the  maker's  hand  betrays. 
The  sweet  disciple  speaks  her  Master's  praise." 

Afterwards,  when  the  Shah  had  doomed  to  death 
one  of  the  women  of  his  harem  for  suspected  in 
fidelity,  his  wrath  was  turned  to  mercy  by  the 
persuasion  of  Miriam.  The  story  is  told  with  ex 
ceeding  grace,  and  the  scenery  and  surroundings 
are  fitly  colored  by  the  gorgeous  atmosphere  of  the 
East. 

The  proem  is  filled  with  weighty  thoughts  con 
cerning  the  dealings  of  God  with  men  born  out 
side  the  pale  of  Christianity,  and  the  measure  of 
spiritual  truth  attained  by  the  seers  and  prophets 
of  elder  races.  The  course  of  the  argument  (if 
the  word  is  admissible)  is  not  unlike  that  fol- 


270  John  Greenkaf  Whittier. 

lowed  in  the  admired  poem,  "  The  Grave  by  the 
Lake : " — 

"  Wherever  through  the  ages  rise 
The  altars  of  self-sacrifice, 
Where  love  its  arms  has  opened  wide, 
Or  man  for  man  has  calmly  died, 
I  see  the  same  white  wings  outspread 
That  hovered  o'er  the  Master's  head. 

I  trace  His  presence  in  the  blind 
Pathetic  gropings  of  my  kind, — 
In  prayers  from  sin  and  sorrow  wrung, 
In  cradle-hymns  of  life  they  sung. 

Since  everywhere  the  Spirit  walks 
The  garden  of  the  heart,  and  talks 
With  man,  as  under  Eden's  trees, 
In  all  his  varied  languages." 

The  "  Occasional  Poems "  in  this  volume  are 
of  varied  character,  but  all  noteworthy  for  some 
feature  of  excellence.  "  Norembega  "  is  a  pathetic 
ballad  of  an  unknown  explorer  of  the  wild  forests 
of  Maine.  "  Nauhaught,  the  Deacon  "  is  an  inter 
esting  legend  of  a  "  praying  Indian  "  of  Cape  Cod. 
"  In  School  Days  "  is  in  its  artless  way  a  most  ex 
quisite  reminiscence.  It  has  the  quick  and  change 
ful  feeling  and  the  sweet  touches  of  nature,  which 
are  the  charm  of  the  ancient  ballad,  —  a  production 
perhaps  rare  in  any  age,  but  especially  in  our  own. 
It  is  the  directness  and  the  simplicity  of  phrase 


"Among  the  Hills"  271 

which  go  to  the  heart.  Most  writers  of  verse 
would  have  tried  to  refine  the  language  and  at- 
tempted  to  describe  the  feeling  which  Whitticr 
dramatically  thrusts  at  the  reader  in  a  line. 

It  is  not  yet  time  for  this  hit  of  school-girl  senti 
ment  to  have  become  needlessly  familiar,  and  a  few 
stanzas  are  quoted.  The  little  heroine  was  sorrow 
ful,  and  she  lingered  after  the  scholars  had  gone,— 
save  one  :  — 

"  For  near  her  stood  the  little  boy 

Her  childish  favor  singled  ; 
His  cap  pulled  low  upon  a  face 

Where  pride  and  shame  were  mingled. 

"  Pushing  with  restless  feet  the  snow 
To  right  and  left,  he  lingered  ;  — 
As  restlessly  lu-r  tiny  hands 

The  blue-checked  apron  fingered. 

"  He  saw  her  lift  her  eyes  ;  he  felt 
The  soft  hand's  light  caressing, 
And  heard  the  tremble  of  her  voice, 
As  if  a  fault  confessing. 

"  '  I  'm  sorry  that  I  spelt  the  word  ; 

I  hate  to  go  above  you, 
Because,'  —  the  brown  eyes  lower  Ml,  — 
4  Because,  you  see,  I  love  you  ! ' ' 

Among  the  purely  personal  poems  few  are  read 
with  more  profound  feeling  than  "My  Triumph." 
It  rises  to  a  noble  and  prophetic  strain  as  it  con- 


272  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

nects  the  life  and  work  of  the  poet  with  the  future 
possibilities  of  our  race.  Careless  of  fame  and  in 
different  to  praise,  he  thinks  only  of  what  good  has 
been  wrought,  and  how  vast  is  the  unattained :  — 

"  Sweeter  than  any  sung 
My  songs  that  found  no  tongue  ; 
Nobler  than  any  fact 
My  wish  that  failed  of  act." 

Others,  he  exclaims,  are  to  sing  the  songs,  and  to 
right  the  wrongs.  A  vision  of  the  future  beauty 
and  holiness  rises, — a  vision  of  a  new  heaven  upon 
earth,  —  and  he  salutes  it  in  memorable  lines  :  — 

"  Ring,  bells  in  unreared  steeples, 
The  joy  of  unborn  peoples  ! 
Sound,  trumpets  far  off  blown, 
Your  triumph  is  my  own  !  " 

In  the  poem,  "  To  Lydia  Maria  Child,"  the  allu 
sion  is  to  the  death  of  Ellis  Gray  Loring,  of  Boston, 
—  a  lawyer,  a  man  of  wealth  and  position,  who  was 
an  abolitionist  in  the  early  days,  when  the  avowal 
required  some  courage. 

The  reader  of  Whittier  frequently  makes  a  dis 
covery  ;  or  rather  it  might  be  said  that  he  comes 
upon  something  at  times  which  has  the  force  of 
novelty  and  the  brilliancy  of  the  unexpected,  be 
cause  it  had  been  before  overlooked.  Such  a 
"  discovery  "  the  writer  made  in  "  A  Spiritual  Mani- 


"Among  the  Hills."  273 

fostation."  Roger  Williams,  the  wise  and  tolerant 
founder  of  Rhode  Island,  is  represented  as  recount 
ing  his  exjMTM'iirt's  with  the  various  sectaries  and 
malcontents  driven  from  the  Massachusetts  Colony 
to  seek  shelter  in  his  little  realm.  There  is  a  seri 
ous  purpose,  of  course,  but  the  tone  is  gay  and  the 
rhymes  are  now  and  then  jinglish.  The  verses, 
as  to  form,  may  be  likened  to  a  Toccata  in  music, 
—  a  kind  of  "  touch-and-go  "  style  of  composition. 
They  are  sufficiently  correct  for  the  purpose,  and 
the  occasional  imperfection  of  the  assonances,  as  in 
"  Hudibras,"  gives  a  comic  twist  to  the  expression. 
It  is  an  amusing  category  of  heretics  and  "  cranks  " 
that  he  gives,  —  an  historic  and  versified  list  of 
Puritanic  aversions.  But  there  are  strong  and 
solid  lines,  as,  for  example :  — 

"  For  Truth's  worst  foe  is  he  who  claims 

To  act  as  God's  avenger, 
And  deems,  beyond  his  sentry  beat, 
The  crystal  walls  in  danger  ;  — 

"  Who  sets  for  heresy  his  traps 

Of  verbal  quirk  and  quibble, 
And  weeds  the  garden  of  the  Lord 
With  Satan's  borrowed  dibble." 

Then  the  tone  shifts  imperceptibly,  and  at  the  close 
are  some  memorable  stanzas  :  — 

"  Forgive,  dear  saint,  the  playful  tone, 
Too  light  for  thy  deserving  ; 


274  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Thanks  for  thy  generous  faith  in  man, 
Thy  trust  in  God  unswerving. 

"  The  pilgrim  needs  a  pass  no  more 

From  Roman  or  Genevan  ; 
Thought-free,  no  ghostly  tollman  keeps 
Henceforth  the  road  to  heaven  !  " 

"  The  Pennsylvania  Pilgrim  "  (1872)  is  pitched 
upon  a  lower  key  than  most  of  its  predecessors. 
As  the  poet  says,  "  The  colors  of  my  sketch  are  all 
very  sober,  —  toned  down  to  the  quiet  and  dreamy 
atmosphere  through  which  its  subject  is  visible." 
It  is  a  pleasant  account  of  the  German  jurist  and 
scholar,  Pastorius,  who  at  the  invitation  of  Penn 
led  a  colony  of  his  countrymen  to  settle  near  Phila 
delphia,  and  founded  Germantown.  The  prefatory 
note  is  full,  attractive,  and  at  times  eloquent. 
Judging  rightly  that  the  influence  of  the  Puritans 
has  been  celebrated  with  enough  eulogy,  the  poet 
claims  the  meed  of  praise  as  well  for  the  Quaker 
settlers  of  Pennsylvania.  "  The  two  principal 
currents  of  American  civilization,"  he  says,  "  had 
their  sources  in  the  entirely  opposite  directions  of 
the  Puritan  and  the  Quaker  colonies."  Pastorius 
and  his  beautiful  wife,  their  charming  home,  gar 
dens,  and  vineyard,  and  their  fine  old-time  manners 
are  depicted  in  tender  if  sober  colors.  The  quiet 
of  the  scene  becomes  contagious,  and  the  reader, 


"Among  the  Hills."  275 

harassed  by  the  bustle  and  worry  of  modern  life, 
slips  back  in  imagination  into  those  pastoral  times, 
and  gains  rest  and  refreshment  of  soul.  It  is  a 
story  to  be  read  under  apple-blossoms,  while  bees 
are  filling  the  air  with  a  drowsy  hum,  and  the  land 
scape  lies  in  dream-like  repose.  The  Friends  alone 
among  moderns  appear  to  know  the  blessedness  of 
calm  souls. 

"  The  Singer  "  is  the  title  of  a  beautiful  descrip 
tive  poem  commemorating  the  sisters  Alice  and 
Phoebe  Gary,  of  Cincinnati,  Ohio.  Both  were  in 
tuitive  observers  of  nature,  and  they  were  equally 
fresh  in  feeling.  Both  were  writers  of  verse,  but 
the  productions  of  Alice  quite  surpass  those  of  her 
sister.  Their  beautiful  characters  and  gentle  man 
ners  endeared  them  to  a  wide  circle  of  friends. 
Both,  it  will  be  remembered,  wrote  for  the  "Na 
tional  Era "  while  Whittier  was  connected  with  it, 
and  were  valued  contributors  to  other  periodicals. 
Horace  Greeley,  founder  of  the  "  New  York  Tri 
bune,"  was  their  stanch  friend,  and  it  is  to  him  that 
Whittier  alludes  in  this  stanza  :  — 

"  When  last  I  saw  her,  full  of  peace, 
She  waited  for  her  great  release  ; 
And  that  old  friend,  so  sage  and  bland, 
Our  later  Franklin,  held  her  hand." 

The  sweet  and  pensive  tone  of  the  poem  is  charac 
teristic  of  the  poet  in  his  tenderest  mood. 


276  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Among  other  fine  poems  in  this  volume,  —  such 
as  "Marguerite"  and  "King  Volmer  and  Elsie," 
— "  The  Sisters  "  may  be  instanced  as  one  with  a 
strong  dramatic  element,  and  containing  a  startling 
surprise  for  the  reader. 

Two  years  later  (1874)  appeared  "  Mabel  Martin," 
with  illustrations  taken  from  scenes  in  the  Mer- 
rimac  valley.  This  poem  is  an  amplification  of 
"  The  Witch's  Daughter,"  which  has  been  previously 
noticed. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

FRIENDSHIPS. 

"Whittier's  Letters  to  Mrs.  Child.  —  Garrison's  Funeral.  —  "  How- 
Mary  Grew."  —The  Emperor  Dom  Pedro.  —  A  Celebrated  Pub 
lisher.  —  Whittier's  Correspondence.  —  A  Thackeray  Myth.  — 
His  Neighbors. 

rpHE  letters  of  Mrs.  Child  contain  many  refer 
ences  to  Whittier,  and  throw  light  upon  his 
character  as  well  as  upon  their  relations.  Whittier's 
letters  to  her  are  equally  touching  and  significant. 
A  few  of  them,  furnished  by  the  representative  of 
Mrs.  Child,1  are  now  printed  for  the  first  time. 
Unlike  the  studied  letters  of  many  famous  people, 
which  show  the  marks  of  labor  and  the  refinements 
of  rhetoric,  these  are  evidently  written  without  a 
thought  of  publication  or  of  effect.  The  charm  of 
real  letters  is  unmistakable  ;  although  polished  epis 
tles  may  be  more  brilliant  and  epigrammatic,  they 
fail  to  touch  the  heart.  In  the  first  we  seem  to 
see  the  quick  mantling  color  and  the  hearty  grasp 
of  hands  ;  in  the  other,  the  guarded  manner  of  self- 
possessed  and  worldly  people. 

1  Mrs.  Sarah  Parsons,  of  Xew  York. 


278  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Mrs.  Child  we  have  seen  renouncing  a  literary 
career  at  the  time  she  was  the  most  famous  and 
probably  the  ablest  woman  in  America.  Her  hus 
band,  David  Lee  Child,  a  studious,  not  to  say  schol 
arly  man,  had  devoted  himself  to  every  good  work, 
especially  to  the  cause  of  the  slave.  They  both 
lived  to  a  good  old  age,  and  have  passed  into  the 
eternal  state,  leaving  behind  them  the  memory  that 

is  blessed. 

DECEMBER  6,  1856. 

God  forbid  that  I  should  forget  or  neglect  an  early 
and  much  loved  friend !  When  we  have  reached  middle 
years,  and  begin  to  tread  the  sunset  declivities  of  life,  it  is 
not  easy  to  make  new  friends  or  give  up  old  ones.  Long 
before  I  knew  thee  I  had  loved  thy  writings,  and  honored 
thee  for  thy  noble  efforts  in  the  cause  of  freedom.  I  have 
had  no  occasion  to  qualify  my  respect  and  admiration,  or 
to  regard  thy  friendship  as  anything  less  than  one  of  the 
blessings  which  the  Divine  Providence  has  bestowed  upon 
me  in  more  than  compensation  for  whatever  trifling  sacri 
fice  I  may  have  made  for  the  welfare  of  my  fellow-men. 

NOVEMBER  15,  1864. 

It  was  an  exceedingly  happy  thought  of  thine  to  send 
these  words  of  cheer  to  those  of  us  who  are  beginning  to 
pass  down  life's  sunset  declivities.  I  do  not  like,  how 
ever,  to  have  thee  call  thyself  old.  I  never  think  of  thee 
as  such.  While  the  heart  and  fancy  are  still  young,  why 
should  we  recur  to  family  registers  ? 

I  am  thinking  how  much  my  sister  would  have  liked 


Friendships.  2  79 

thy  book.1  How  strange  and  terrible  are  these  sojci ra 
tions! —  this  utter  silence!  —  this  dumb  agony  of  mys 
tery  !  —  this  reaching  out  for  the  love  which  we  feel  must 
be  eviT-livinir,  but  which  gives  us  no  sign!  Ah,  my 
friend,  what  i>  tin-re  for  us  but  to  hold  faster  and  firmer 
our  faith  in  the  goodness  of  God?  —  that  all  which  In- 
allots  to  us  or  our  friends  is  for  the  best !  —  best  for  them, 
for  us,  for  all !  Let  theology,  hate,  and  bigotry  talk  as 
they  will,  I  for  one  will  hold  fast  to  this :  God  is  good  ; 
he  is  our  Father!  lie  knows  what  love  is,  —  what  our 
hearts,  sore  and  bereaved,  long  for,  and  he  will  not  leave 
us  comfortless ;  for  is  he  not  Love  ? 

19th  12th  mo.,  1869. 

I  thank  thee  from  my  heart  for  thy  very  kind  notice 
of  me  and  mine  in  the  [Boston]  "Journal"  of  this  morning. 
I  know  very  well  I  don't  deserve  it,  but  I  am  grateful  for 
it,  notwithstanding.  What  gives  it  the  greater  value  in 
my  eyes  is  that  it  comes  from  thee.  If  I  were  younger, 
and  did  not  wear  a  plain  coat,  I  might  be  tempted  to  ex 
claim  with  Burns,  when  similarly  favored  :  — 

"  Now  dicl-ma-care  about  their  jaw,  — 

The  senseless,  gawky  million  ; 
I  '11  cock  my  nose  aboon  them  a'  — 
I  'm  roosed  2  by  Craigengillan." 

I  am  always  glad  to  see  thy  name  in  print.  I  read  any 
thing  thee  may  write,  — not  only  for  its  literary  qualities. 

1  She  had  died  about  a  month  before  the  date  of  this  letter. 
The  book  is  entitled  "  Looking  towards  Sunset." 

2  Praised. 


280  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

but  because  I  know  a  true  and  noble  woman  stands  be 
hind  it. 

God's  blessing  be  with  thee,  my  dear  friend. 

AUGUST  3,  1870. 

My  deepest  sympathies  are  with  Prussia  in  the  im 
pending  contest.  What  a  monster  Napoleon  is  !  —  Was 
he  born  without  moral  sense  ?  Has  he  no  conscience,  no 
remorse  ?  There  is  something  weird  and  dreadful  about 
him.  The  prayers  of  all  the  priests  of  Rome  are  with 
him ;  but  the  cry  of  innocent  blood,  rising  to  heaven, 
will  drown  them.  I  think  he  is  rushing  upon  his  fate. 

In  the  same  letter  he  says  of  the  Vice-President, 
Henry  Wilson :  — 

"  He  is  in  the  main  a  very  true  and  noble  man,  when 
the  politician  allows  the  man  to  act  freely ;  and  he  has 
done  great  service  to  the  cause  of  freedom.  I  shall  do 
what  I  can  to  secure  his  re-election."  1 

JUNE  29,  1874. 

I  was  reading  D.  L.  C.'s  [David  Lee  Child]  speech 
at  the  first  annual  meeting  of  the  N.  E.  A.  S.  Society,  a 
few  days  ago,  and  the  old,  old  days  seemed  to  be  fresh  in 
my  memory.  I  see  that  the  second  annual  report  of  the 
Society  in  1834  gives  the  following  list  of  the  'works' 
on  slavery  which  had  been  circulated  by  the  Society  : 
Paxton's  Letters,  Wright's  Sin  of  Slavery,  Mr.  Child's 
Speech,  Whittier's  Justice  and  Expediency,  and  Mrs. 

1  Wilson  on  his  death-bed  said  :  "  If  I  had  to  do,  —  to  think,  to 
act,  and  to  vote  just  as  I  was  directed  by  one  man,  I  would  choose 
"Whittier.  I  believe  him  the  purest  man  living  on  earth."  —  From 
a  letter  by  S.  A.  Boy  den. 


281 


Child's  Appeal.  So  we  were  early  found  working  to 
gether. 

I  have  been  looking  over  Wilson's  second  volume  of 
the  "  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Slave  Power."  It  is  highly  cred 
itable  to  his  ability,  impartiality,  and  discrimination.  It 
entitles  him  to  higher  honor  than  the  Vice-Presidency. 

Give  my  kindest  regards  to  Mr.  Child,  and  may  the 
dear  Lord  and  Father  bless  you  both! 

The  following  letter  from  Whittier  is  indorsed  in 
the  handwriting  of  Mrs.  Child,  as  follows  :  — 

"  Sent  to  me  in  answer  to  a  letter  enclosing  a  stereo 
scopic  view  of  Charles  Sumner's  portrait,  seen  through  a 
grotto  of  white  phantom  leaves." 

20th  9th  mo.,  1874. 

I  am  always  glad  to  see  thy  handwriting  on  an  en 
velope.  I  make  many  new  friends,  but  my  heart,  as  I 
grow  older,  turns  longingly  to  the  surviving  friends  of 
my  early  years,  who  have  shared  in  the  struggles  and 
triumphs  of  a  great  cause. 

The  picture  of  our  great  and  good  friend  in  its  ad 
mirably  fitting  setting  I  shall  value  highly  for  its  own 
sake,  but  also  for  that  of  the  friend  who  sent  it. 

I  shall  have  a  little  book  of  mine  to  send  thee  next 
month. 

I  hope  thy  husband  is  by  this  time  more  comfortable. 
AV.  are  all  growing  old,  and  nearing  the  unknown  shore. 
I  am  in  my  sixty-sixth  y«-ar,  and  yet  it  seems  but  a  little 
space  of  time  since  I  was  a  boy. 

My  health  has  been  feeble  all  summer,  but  a  visit  to 
the  New  Hampshire  hills  at  North  Con  way  and  AV- 


282  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Ossipee  has  done  me  good.  But  a  few  hours  of  reading 
or  writing  entirely  prostrates  me.  Indeed,  for  a  long 
time  I  have  only  been  able  to  write  from  half  an  hour  to 
an  hour  at  a  time,  —  often  only  a  few  minutes. 

AMESBURY,  9th  mo.  23d  [year  wanting]. 

Since  sending  thee  my  note  in  reply  to  thine,  I  learn 
that  my  old  friend,  thy  honored  husband,  has  passed  from 
this  life.  It  must  have  been  very  sudden  to  thee.  Indeed, 
death  is  always  a  surprise. 

A  brave,  true,  and  strong  man  has  gone  from  us.  He 
was  one  of  the  very  first  to  throw  himself  with  unselfish 
devotion  into  the  anti-slavery  cause ;  and  I  well  remem 
ber  his  exceedingly  able  speech  at  the  first  annual  meeting 
of  the  N.  E.  A.  S.  [New  England  Anti-slavery  Society], 
—  a  speech  which  was  published  by  thousands  in  pamphlet 
form,  and  which  was  at  the  time  the  best  and  fullest  expo 
sition  of  our  principles  and  objects. 

Dear  friend  of  many  years,  all  who  know  and  love 
thee  will  draw  near  to  thee  at  this  time  in  tender  sym 
pathy.  May  the  dear  God  and  Father  keep  and  comfort 
thee !  Always  and  affectionately  thy  friend. 

25th  3d  mo.,  1876. 

Thy  confession  as  respects  thy  services  in  the  cause  of 
emancipation  does  not  "  shock  "  me  at  all.  The  emanci 
pation  that  came  by  military  necessity  and  was  enforced 
by  bayonets  was  not  the  emancipation  for  which  we 
worked  and  prayed.  But,  like  the  Apostle,  I  am  glad  that 
the  Gospel  of  Freedom  was  preached,  even  if  by  strife 
and  contention.  It  cannot  be  said  that  we  did  it ;  we, 
indeed,  had  no  triumph. 


283 

But  the  work  itself  was  a  success.  It  made  us  stronger 
and  better  mm  and  women.  Some  had  little  to  sacrifice, 
hut  I  always  tVlt  that  tlu-e  had  made  the  costliest  offering 
to  the  cause  ;  for  thee,  alone,  of  all  of  us  had  won  a  lit 
erary  reputation  which  any  one  might  have  been  proud 
of.  I  read  all  thy  early  works  with  enthusiastic  interest, 
as  I  have  all  the  later.  Some  time  ago  I  searched  Boston 
and  New  York  for  thy  "  Hobomok,"  and  succeeded  in 
finding  a  defaced  copy.  How  few  American  books  can 
compare  with  thy  "Philothea"  !  Why,  my  friend,  thy 
reputation,  in  spite  of  the  anti-slavery  surrender  of  it  for 
so  many  years,  is  still  a  living  and  beautiful  reality. 
And,  after  all,  good  as  thy  books  are,  we  know  thee  to 
be  better  than  any  book.  I  wish  thee  could  know  how 
proudly  and  tenderly  thee  are  loved  and  honored  by  the 
best  and  wisest  of  the  land.  God  bless  thee  always  ! 

28th  6th  mo.,  1879. 

I  did  not  see  thee  at  our  dear  Garrison's  funeral.  Was 
thee  there  ?  It  was  a  most  impressive  occasion.  Phillips 
outdid  himself ;  and  Theodore  Weld,  under  the  stress  of 
powerful  emotion,  renewed  that  marvellous  eloquence 
which  in  the  early  days  of  anti-slavery  shamed  the  church 
and  silenced  the  mob.  I  never  heard  anything  more 
beautiful  and  more  moving. 

Garrison's  faith  in  the  continuity  of  life  was  very  posi 
tive.  He  trusted  more  to  the  phenomena  of  spiritualism 
than  I  can,  however.  My  faith  is  not  helped  by  th.  in. 
I  do  believe,  apart  from  all  outward  signs,  in  the  future 
life;  and  that  the  happiness  of  that  life,  as  in  this,  \\ill 
consist  in  labor  and  self-sacrifice.  In  this  sense,  as  thee 
say,  "  there  is  no  death." 


284  John  Greerileaf  Whittier. 

I  trust,  with  thee,  that  the  wretched  Pocasset  horror a 
will  teach  all  honest  expounders  the  folly  and  danger  of 
going  back  to  the  Stone  Age  for  models  of  right  living. 
I  am  shocked  by  the  barbarism  and  superstition  of  our 
popular  faith.  There  needs  another  George  Fox,  with 
broader  vision,  to  call  men  from  the  death  of  the  letter  to 
the  life  of  the  spirit,  and  to  tread  under  foot  the  ghastly 
and  bloody  materialism  among  us. 

I  hope  these  pure  days  find  thee  well,  and  able  to  enjoy 
them.  It  seems  to  me  they  were  never  so  lovely  as  now. 
Do  our  friends  who  have  left  us  see  them  ?  I  think  so, 
or  something  akin  to  them,  but  fairer.  Thanks  for  the 
translation  of  George  Sand.  It  is  full  of  suggestive 
beauty.  Perhaps  I  may  some  time  add  rhyme  to  the 
melody. 

Among  the  friends  of  Whittier  mention  should 
be  made  of  Mary  Grew,  of  Philadelphia,  a  woman 
of  eminent  ability  and  well  known  for  her  philan 
thropic  labors.  She  attended  a  meeting  of  the 
Radical  Club  in  Boston  on  one  occasion,  and  read 
an  essay  entitled  "  Essential  Christianity."  Mr. 
Whittier,  who  was  unable  to  be  present,  sent  a  poem. 
It  is  purely  personal,  but  as  it  has  been  printed  in 
Mrs.  Sargent's  volume  which  gives  an  account  of 
the  Club,  its  reproduction  may  be  pardoned. 

1  One  Freeman,  in  Pocasset,  Mass.,  in  a  fit  of  religious  frenzy 
killed  his  child  under  the  belief  that  he  was  commanded  to  make 
the  sacrifice  in  imitation  of  Abraham.  He  was  treated  as  a  lunatic 
and  shut  up  in  an  asylum,  but  is  now  said  to  have  become  sane. 


FriendMpt.  285 


MAIIV     <il:i   \V. 

With  wisdom  far  beyond  her  years, 
And  grau-r  than  her  wondering  peers, 
So  strong,  so  mild,  combining  still 
Tin-  tender  heart  and  queenly  will, 
To  conscience  and  to  duty  true, 
So,  up  from  childhood,  Mary  Grew  1 

Then  in  her  gracious  womanhood 
She  gave  her  days  to  doing  good. 
She  dared  the  scornful  laugh  of  men, 
The  hounding  mob,  the  slanderer's  pen. 
She  did  the  work  she  found  to  do,  — 
A  Christian  heroine,  Mary  Grew  ! 

The  freed  slave  thanks  her  ;  blessing  comes 
To  her  from  women's  weary  homes  ; 
The  wronged  and  erring  find  in  her 
Their  censor  mild  and  comforter. 
The  world  were  safe  if  but  a  few 
Could  grow  in  grace  as  Mary  Grew  ! 

So,  New  Year's  Eve,  I  sit  and  say, 
By  this  low  wood-fire,  ashen  gray  ; 
Just  wishing,  as  the  night  shuts  down, 
That  I  could  hear  in  Boston  town, 
In  pleasant  Chestnut  Avenue, 
From  her  own  lips,  how  Mary  Grew  ! 

And  hear  her  graceful  hostess  tell 

The  silver-voiced  oracle 

Who  lately  through  her  parlors  spoke 

As  through  Dodona's  sacred  oak, 

A  wiser  truth  than  any  told 

By  Sappho's  lips  of  ruddy  gold,  — 

The  way  to  make  the  world  anew, 

Is  just  to  grow  —  as  Hilary  Grew  ! 


286  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

In  Mrs.  Sargent's  "  Recollections  of  the  Radical 
Club"  there  is  an  account  of  the  meeting  of  Whittier 
with  Dom  Pedro,  the  Emperor  of  Brazil,  at  her 
house.  The  Emperor,  it  is  stated,  had  been  an  ad 
mirer  of  Whittier,  and  had  corresponded  with  him 
both  in  regard  to  poetry  and  the  emancipation  of 
slaves.  He  had  translated  the  poem  of  Whittier 
entitled  "  The  Cry  of  a  Lost  Soul,"  beginning  :  — 

"  In  that  black  forest,  where,  when  day  is  done, 
With  a  snake's  stillness  glides  the  Amazon." 

As  the  poet  stepped  forward  it  appeared  to  all  that 
the  Emperor  was  about  to  embrace  him,  after  the 
warm-hearted  manner  of  the  Latin  races.  But 
Whittier,  somewhat  abashed  at  the  demonstration, 
gave  his  imperial  admirer  a  cordial  grasp  of  the 
hand  and  led  him  to  a  sofa,  where  they  indulged  in 
friendly  conversation. 

On  retiring  from  the  room,  the  Emperor  placed 
his  arm  around  his  brother  poet's  waist  and  gently 
drew  him  down  the  staircase.  Over  their  farewell 
we  can  properly  drop  the  curtain. 

Grace  Greenwood,  an  eminent  writer,  and  a  de 
served  favorite  with  all  readers,  became  an  aboli 
tionist  in  that  elder  day  when  the  confession  was 
suicidal.  Her  stories  and  sketches,  full  of  wit  and 
good  humor,  had  been  the  chief  attraction  in  many 
magazines ;  but  when  she  was  proclaimed  an  agi- 


Friendship*.  287 

tat  or,  a  certain  publisher,  alarmed  for  his  Southern 
circulation,  not  only  dropped  her  name  from  his 
list  of  contributors,  but  made  an  offensive  parade 
of  his  action,  with  the  view  of  strengthening  his 
position  among  slaveholders  and  conservatives. 
By  some  coincidence  his  portrait  was  issued  about 
the  same  time.  Whittier  was  always  a  chivalrous 
friend,  and  above  all  things  he  despised  subservi 
ency.  He  published  in  the  "  National  Era  "  a  sting 
ing  satire,  which  we  copy.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
say  that  in  literary  merit  this  is  not  equal  to  his 
best;  but  it  is  worth  preserving  as  a  specimen  of 
what  we  may  call  righteous  indignation,  as  well  as 
a  part  of  the  history  of  the  time :  — 

[April  4,  1850.] 

LINES    ON   THE    PORTRAIT   OF   A   CELEBRATED   PUBLISHER. 

A  moony  breadth  of  virgin  face, 

By  thought  unviolated ; 
A  patient  mouth,  to  take  from  scorn 

The  hook  with  bank-notes  baited  1 
Its  self-complacent  sleekness  shows 

How  thrift  goes  with  the  fawner  — 
An  unctuous  unconcern  of  all 

Which  nice  folks  call  dishonor  ! 

A  pleasant  print  to  peddle  out 

In  lands  of  rice  and  cotton  ; 
The  model  of  that  face  in  dough 

Would  make  the  artist's  fortune. 


288  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

For  Fame  to  thee  has  come  unsought, 
While  others  vainly  woo  her, 

In  proof  how  mean  a  thing  can  make 
A  great  man  of  its  doer. 

To  whom  shall  men  thyself  compare, 

Since  common  models  fail  'em, 
Save  classic  goose  of  ancient  Rome, 

Or  sacred  ass  of  Balaam? 
The  gabble  of  that  wakeful  goose 

Saved  Rome  from  sack  of  Brennus  ; 
The  braying  of  the  prophet's  ass 

Betrayed  the  angel's  menace ! 

So  when  Guy  Fawkes,  with  silken  skirt 

And  azure-tinted  hose  on, 
Was  twisting  from  thy  love-lorn  sheets 

The  slow-match  of  explosion  — 
An  earthquake  blast  that  would  have  tossed 

The  Union  as  a  feather, 
Thy  instinct  saved  a  perilled  land 

And  perilled  purse  together. 

Just  think  of  Carolina's  sage 
Sent  whirling  like  a  Dervish, 

Of  Quettlebum  in  middle  air 

Performing  strange  drill-service  1 

Doomed  like  Assyria's  lord  of  old, 
Who  fell  before  the  Jewess, 

Or  sad  Abimelech,  to  sigh, 
"  Alas  !  a  woman  slew  us  !  " 

Thou  saw'st  beneath  a  fair  disguise 
The  danger  darkly  working, 


289 

Inflowing  locks  aiul  lairjliin:!  eyes 

The  cunning  mischief  lurking. 
How  keen  to  scent  the  hidden  plot! 

How  prompt  wert  thou  to  balk  it, 

With  patriot  xral  and  ju'dler  thrift, 
For  country  and  for  pocket  1 

Thy  likeness  here  is  doubtless  well, 

But  higher  honor  's  due  it ; 
On  auction-block  and  negro-jail 

Admiring  eyes  should  view  it. 
Or,  hung  aloft,  it  well  might  grace 

The  nation's  senate-chamber  — 
A  greedy  Northern  bottle-fly 

Preserved  in  Slavery's  amber ! 

Another  friend  may  be  named,  Miss  Lucy  Lar- 
com,  of  Beverly,  Mass.,  well  known  by  a  poem  full 
of  homely  fidelity  and  pathos,  entitled  "  Hannah  at 
the  Window,"  and  by  others  of  perhaps  equal  merit. 
Mr.  Pickard,  from  whose  letters  quotations  have 
been  made  in  this  volume,  writing  from  the  Bear- 
camp  River,  says  :  — 

"  Mr.  Whittier  is  not  alone  among  the  poets  who  have 
been  inspired  by  this  scenery.  At  this  place,  and  in  the 
neighboring  town  of  Sandwich,  in  the  same  valley,  Lucy 
Larcom  has  spent  some  part  of  every  summer  for  many 
years.  She  has  thoroughly  explored  the  region,  and 
ascended  all  the  principal  summits.  As  will  be  observed, 
her  name  is  given  to  one  of  the  Ossipee  hills  [Lucy's 
Peak]. 

19 


290  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  It  has  been  my  good  fortune  to  meet  both  of  the 
poets  in  this  visit.  Each  of  them  was  accompanied  by 
relatives  and  friends,  and  the  group  almost  filled  this 
ancient  and  comfortable  inn.  The  grave  and  reverend 
poet  who  wrote  the  '  Centennial  Hymn'  has  smiled  benig- 
nantly  upon  them,  and  even  written  witty  nonsense  verses 
which  have  capped  the  climax  of  their  fun.  The  author 
of  *  Hannah  at  the  Window '  enlivened  the  festivities  of 
one  rainy  evening  by  reading  with  an  irresistibly  comic 
effect  a  very  amusing  poem  composed  for  the  occasion. 
I  wish  it  were  allowable  to  give  some  specimens  of  the 
work,  or  rather  play,  of  both  these  poets,  but,  of  course, 
it  is  out  of  the  question." 

"Whittier  has  been  the  most  prolific  of  letter- 
writers.  From  the  beginning  of  the  anti-slavery 
movement  his  pen  was  in  constant  use.  His  let 
ters,  if  collected,  would  fill  volumes.  How  much 
it  is  to  be  regretted  that  they  could  not  be  col 
lected  under  his  own  supervision !  He  has  kept 
no  copies,  but  it  is  to  be  hoped  his  correspondents 
have  preserved  them.  They  are  in  possession  of 
the  most  eminent  men  in  public  and  in  literary  life 
both  in  the  United  States  and  in  England. 

His  friendships  have  been  faithful  and  lasting. 
Readers  will  remember  the  warm-hearted  refer 
ences  to  Sumner,  Dr.  Howe,  Stearns,  Garrison, 
Samuel  E.  Sewall,  Theodore  D.  Weld,  Fields,  and 
Taylor,  as  well  as  to  the  humbler  laborers  among 


Friendships.  291 

Friends,  and  to  the  women  mentioned  in  these  pa.uvs. 
But  there  are  many  unnamed  in  this  work  ;  snrli 
as  John  P.  Hale,  the  poet  Lowell,  Salmon  P.  Chase, 
Joshua  R.  (Biddings,  E.  P.  Whipple,  Anson  Burlin- 
ira  mo,  William  II.  Si-ward,  Ilrnry  Wilson,  N.  1*. 
Rogers,  Dr.  Henry  I.  Bowditch,  Samuel  Fessendrn, 
Governor  William  Claflin,  Myron  Holley,  and 
others,  who  enjoyed  his  friendship  and  received  his 
frequent  letters.  When  the  time  shall  come  there 
may  be  a  large  collection,  from  which  the  history  of 
our  era  will  be  more  fully  illustrated. 

It  should  be  added  that  with  the  leading  Ameri 
can  poets  his  relations  have  always  been  cordial. 
Between  him  and  Emerson  there  was  a  pleasant 
interchange  of  visits  and  letters.  With  Holmes  he 
enjoyed  a  warm  and  generous  communion.  Long 
fellow  he  saw  less  frequently,  though  they  were  on 
the  best  terms,  and  always  ready  to  do  mutual  kind 
offices.  With  Bryant  he  had  an  acquaintance,  but 
they  seldom  met. 

But  for  the  full  appreciation  of  Whittier  we  must 
go  among  the  people  of  Amesbury  and  of  his  native 
Haverhill.  Though  they  may  not  all  be  able  to 
gauge  his  merits  as  a  poet,  they  love  him  as  a  man 
and  neighbor.  He  has  always  been  democratic  in 
his  feelings  (if  a  political  term  may  be  allowed), 
and  the  reputation  he  has  won  as  a  man  of  letters 


2 92  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

has  not  in  the  least  impaired  his  kindly  interest  in, 
or  his  natural  familiarity  with,  all  classes  of  his 
townsmen. 

It  was  largely  due  to  his  efforts  that  Essex 
County  became  the  early  home  of  the  anti-slavery 
movement.  His  poems  have  celebrated  its  scenery 
and  historical  events  with  a  fidelity  and  beauty 
elsewhere  unparalleled ;  and  his  fame  is  felt  to  be 
a  part  of  the  inheritance  of  every  one  who  traces 
his  descent  from  the  colonists  of  the  river  towns. 
The  feeling  is  universal  and  intense.  Other  poets 
may  be  admired  on  the  Merrimac,  but  it  is  only 
Whittier  who  is  regarded  with  love  and  reverence. 

Perhaps  a  paragraph  of  another  sort  should  be 
added  by  way  of  antidote,  or,  at  least,  of  caution. 
It  is  a  pity  that  those  who  compile  accounts  of  pub 
lic  men  by  the  use  of  scissors,  should  not  have  some 
way  to  test  the  accuracy  of  their  clippings.  Unfor 
tunately  not  all  the  stories  in  newspapers  are  true. 

Here  is  a  story  from  a  Western  periodical,  pur 
porting  to  have  been  written  by  its  well-informed 
correspondent  in  New  York.  It  is  sufficiently 
worthless  in  itself,  but  it  may  serve  one  good 
purpose. 

HOW    THACKERAY    HUGGED    WHITTIER. 

Now  that  I  am  talking  of  literary  men,  I  want  to 
repeat  a  good  story  which  was  told  me  the  other  day 


293 

of  tlio  little1  quarrel  which  John  G.  Whittier  had  with 
Thackeray,  the  great  English  novelist.  Whittier,  as  you 
know,  is  very  reserved,  and  the  story  comes  through  a 
frirnd  of  his  brother  for  the  first  time  to  the  public. 
When  Mr.  Whitti<T  was  in  London  many  years  ago,  he 
was  made  a  lion  by  the  literary  people  of  the  metropolis. 
The  father  of  Pendcnnis  and  Becky  Sharp  was  prominent 
among  his  entertainers,  and  among  other  things  he  hon 
ored  him  by  a  dinner  at  his  club.  Whittier  and  Thack 
eray  went  together  in  Thackeray's  carriage  to  the  club 
rooms.  At  the  dinner  much  wine  was  drunk,  as  is  the 
custom  at  all  such  feasts  in  England.  Thackeray  seemed 
to  have  no  limit  in  his  capacity  in  this  direction,  and 
drank  bottle  after  bottle  apparently  without  being  in  the 
least  affected  by  it.  He  was  as  witty  and  dear-headed  as 
though  he  had  been  taking  nothing  but  soda.  Whittirr 
W:IN  temperate,  and  drank  but  little.  As  morning  crept 
on,  however,  and  the  feast  ended,  Thackeray  succumbed, 
and,  on  leaving,  his  valet  had  to  carry  him  to  the  car 
riage.  On  the  way  home  he  became  maudlin,  and  threw 
his  arms  around  Whittier's  neck,  vowing  eternal  friend 
ship.  In  short,  he  acted  so  that  Whittier  grew  thor 
oughly  disgusted  and  left,  resolving  to  have  nothing  more 
to  do  with  Thackeray. 

It  is  sad  to  think  of  Thackeray  as  such  a  toper ; 
but  what  has  the  ordinary  reader  to  say  concerning 
a  circumstantial  account  like  this,  —  and  by  one 
with  such  an  evident  knowledge  of  the  customs  of 
London  clubs  ?  It  is  "  from  a  friend  of  Whittier's 
brother,"  too,  and  so  is  authentic.  If  Thackeray 


294  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

had  been  helped  into  his  carriage  by  his  "  valet," 
that,  of  course,  was  proof  positive.  And  to  be 
hugged  by  a  great  strapping  Englishman  in  a 
maudlin  and  slobbery  way  !  No  wonder  the  staid 
Quaker  resolved  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with 
him.  The  more,  because  Whittier  drinks  no  wine, 
and  never  did,  having  been  all  his  life  a  total 
abstainer.  He  is  also  averse  to  late  hours  and 
club  dinners,  and  eats  (sparingly)  at  mid-day  as 
his  ancestors  did.  One  is  quite  sure  he  was  never 
out  of  his  bed  "  when  morning  crept  on."  He  has 
always  been  averse,  likewise,  to  playing  the  lion, 
even  in  our  small  city  of  Boston ;  and  has  gener 
ally  fled  from  any  public  demonstration.  There  is 
a  further  difficulty.  He  could  not  well  have  dined 
at  a  swell  club  in  London  with  Thackeray,  because 
he  was  never  in  that  city,  and  never  crossed  the 
Atlantic.  Finally,  he  lately  assured  the  present 
writer  that  he  had  never  "  met "  Thackeray  any 
where,  and  had  never  even  seen  him.  So  the 
story  vanishes  like  a  guilty  ghost.  Of  such  trust 
worthy  materials  are  many  biographies  composed. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HAZEL  BLOSSOMS. 

The  Witch-Hazel.  —  Charles  Sumner  ;  an  Estimate.  —  Whittier'a 
Grand  Elegy.  — The  Atmosphere  of  the  Later  Poems.  —  Agassiz. 
—  The  Sea  Dream.  —  Poems  of  Elizabeth. 

r~pHIS  little  volume  was  published  in  1875,  when 
Whittier  was  in  his  sixty-eighth  year.  The 
blossoms  are  not  those  of  the  sturdy  and  full-leaved 
hazel-bush,  whose  clustered  nuts  —  resembling  fil 
berts —  are  so  eagerly  sought  by  boys  in  autumn,  but 
of  the  witch-hazel  (originally  ^c/i-hazel),  a  shrub 
that  is  found  in  damp  forests  throughout  the  United 
States.  Its  name  is  Hamamelis  Virginica,  and  it  is 
renowned  for  its  (supposed)  medicinal  virtues,  also 
for  its  reputed  occult  power  (in  certain  hands !)  of 
discovering  water  in  subterranean  springs.  The 
use  of  its  essential  quality  in  the  form  of  a  lotion 
for  the  cure  of  diseases  is  almost  universal.  The 
other  and  mysterious  use  of  its  twigs  as  divining- 
rods  is  confined  to  the  uneducated  and  credulous ; 
but,  within  the  memory  of  many  now  living,  the 


296  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

aid  of  the  fork  of  witch-hazel  was  very  commonly 
invoked  by  those  about  to  dig  wells,  or  to  find 
springs  for  the  supply  of  aqueducts.  The  flowers 
of  the  witch-hazel,  developed  from  buds  formed  in 
summer,  open  in  October  or  November  just  as  all 
the  forest  leaves  are  falling.  They  are  bright 
yellow,  —  "  twisted  gold,"  —  and  are  therefore  con 
spicuous  among  the  bare  shrubbery.  Brilliant  as 
they  are,  they  are  not  joyous  emblems,  although 
they  belong  to  New  England's  most  beautiful  and 
exhilarating  season,  because  they  remind  us  that 
the  procession  of  flowers  has  passed,  —  that  the 
hectic  bloom  of  the  doomed  forest  leaves  has  been 
succeeded  by  eager  frosts  and  brisk  north  winds, 
and  that  in  the  woodland  paths  and  openings  we 
must  trample  the  faded  glories  of  summer. 

The  principal  poem  in  the  collection  is  an  elegy 
upon  Charles  Sumner,  who  died  in  March,  1874. 
It  is  a  work  of  some  importance,  containing  over 
fifty  stanzas ;  and  though  its  conception  was  due  to 
feelings  of  grateful  admiration  and  sincere  friend 
ship,  yet  it  is  evident  that  its  composition  was  the 
result  of  careful  study.  It  is  vigorous,  but  stately 
in  movement ;  it  is  warm  and  generous  in  what 
it  suggests,  but  the  language  is  academic  and  the 
feeling  under  command.  There  are  no  impassioned 
utterances,  no  apostrophes  that  make  the  nerves 


Hazel  Blossoms.  297 

tingle:  but  all  is  strong,  steady,  and  decorous,  like 
the  subject  of  the  \crsc.  For  Sumner,  intellectual, 
spotless,  faithful,  persistent,  and  brave  as  he  was, 
hud  little  personal  magnetism,  and  no  winning 

Lively  or 


"  Xo  sense  of  humor  dropped  its  oil 

On  the  hard  ways  his  purpose  went  ; 
Small  play  of  fancy  lightened  toil  ; 
lie  spake  alone  the  thing  he  meant." 

His  emotions  were  limited  to  the  great  cause  he 
served,  and  his  sympathies  mainly  to  his  fellow- 
workers.  He  was  fortunate  in  having  a  reading 
and  thinking  constituency,  who  at  first  appreciated 
and  supported  him  as  a  representative  of  their  con 
victions.  Had  he  lived  in  a  Western  State  he  would 
have  been  at  most  an  essayist,  a  judge,  or  a  court 
reporter;  any  cross-roads  orator,  not  to  mention 
such  adroit  politicians  as  Clay,  Corwin,  and  Crit- 
tenden,  would  have  easily  discomfited  him. 

As  time  went  on,  his  intellectual  view  broadened, 
and  his  knowledge  and  experience  culminated  in 
statesmanship  ;  so  that  he  reached  a  height  where 
he  was  unmoved  by  the  passions  or  clamors  of  the 
hour,  and  was  often  exposed  to  ill-considered  cen 
sure.  In  his  denunciation  of  the  seizure  of  the 
rebel  envoys  by  Commodore  Wilkes,  he  incurred 
great  odium  ;  and  still  more  by  his  magnanimous 


298  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

proposition  that  the  colors  of  the  national  regiments 
should  not  bear  the  names  of  battles  of  the  civil 
war  in  which  they  had  been  carried.  For  his  advo 
cacy  of  this  most  wise  and  just  measure  the  legisla 
ture  of  Massachusetts,  in  1873,  passed  upon  him  a 
vote  of  censure.  It  was,  however,  reversed  and 
expunged  at  the  next  session,  a  very  short  time 
before  the  senator's  death.1  To  this  Whittier  re 
fers  in  two  suggestive  stanzas  :  — 

"  If  for  one  moment  turned  thy  face, 
O  mother,  from  thy  son,  not  long 
He  waited  calmly  in  his  place 

The  sure  remorse  which  follows  wrong. 

"  Forgiven  be  the  State  he  loved 

The  one  brief  lapse,  the  single  blot; 
Forgotten  be  the  stain  removed, 
Her  righted  record  shows  it  not." 

So,  throughout  this  long  procession  of  stanzas, 
moving  to  the  time  of  a  funeral  march,  we  see  that 
Sumner  is  honored  and  even  revered,  but  scarcely 

1  The  injustice  of  this  censure  stirred  "Whittier  to  the  depths  of 
his  nature.  He  at  once  drew  up  and  signed  a  memorial  to  the 
legislature,  asking  that  it  be  rescinded.  Mr.  Sewall  gave  his  signa 
ture  gladly,  and  the  paper  was  then  sent  to  Longfellow,  who  signed 
it,  and  got  other  signatures  from  Harvard  professors.  It  was  duly 
presented,  but  the  prayer  was  not  successful  until  the  next  year, 
1874.  The  recall  of  Massachusetts  to  an  honorable  position  towards 
its  great  senator  was  due  solely  to  Whittier's  prompt  and  generous 
efforts. 


Hazel  Blossoms.  299 

loved  ;  albeit  the  poet  would  not  perhaps  admit 
so  much.  He  was  the  steel  point  of  the  plough 
share,  the  very  acies  at  the  front  of  the  battle. 
I  !«•  addressed  the  higher  intellectual  faculties,  and 
the  absolute  sense  of  right.  That  he  did  this  in 
latinized  sentences,  heavy  with  ornament,  was  due 
to  the  training  he  had  received  and  to  the  usage  of 
the  classical  circle  in  which  he  moved. 
Of  his  style  Whittier  says  :  — 

"  The  sea  rolled  chorus  to  his  speech 

Three-banked  like  Latium's  tall  trireme, 
With  laboring  oars  ;  the  grove  and  beach 
Were  Forum  and  the  Academe." 

As  to  his  rather  distant  manner,  the  poet  inti 
mates  that  it  was  due  to  his  pride  in  his  native 
State:- 

"  If  than  Rome's  tribunes  statelier 

He  wore  his  senatorial  robe, 
His  lofty  port  was  all  for  her, 

The  one  dear  spot  in  all  the  globe." 

There  are  many  reasons  why  Whittier  followed 
the  course  of  Sumner  —  excepting  in  his  defection 
from  the  Republican  party  in  1872  —  with  intense 
admiration.  As  a  Quaker,  an  advocate  of  peace,  he 
was  naturally  impressed  by  the  oration  upon  the 
"  True  Grandeur  of  Nations."  As  a  believer  in 
equal  rights,  his  thanks  were  due  to  the  man  who 


300  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

first  formulated  the  sentiment  that  "Freedom  is 
national  and  Slavery  is  sectional."  His  sympathy 
went  out  for  the  victim  of  a  brutal  assault  by  an 
infuriated  slaveholder ;  and  upon  Sumner's  return 
to  his  seat,  the  abolitionist  could  but  rejoice  at  the 
terrible  presentation  of  the  Barbarism  of  Slavery. 

Whittier  was  moved,  too,  by  the  calm  grandeur 
of  Sumner's  view  of  a  reunited  Republic.  We  have 
seen  in  his  own  letters  how  strongly  he  felt  upon 
the  subject  of  punishing  the  leaders  of  a  conquered 
people.  He  was  anxious  that  the  triumph  of  free 
dom  should  be  sullied  by  no  bloodshed ;  therefore 
he  exulted  in  Sumner's  clemency  :  — 

"  The  first  to  smite,  the  first  to  spare ; 
"When  once  the  hostile  ensigns  fell, 
He  stretched  out  hands  of  generous  care 
To  lift  the  foe  he  fought  so  well." 

As  a  whole,  the  career  of  Sumner,  as  a  scholar, 
jurist,  orator,  senator,  and  diplomatist,  is  doubtless 
the  noblest  and  most  complete  in  our  history.  That 
he  was  irritated  at  times  into  unwise  deflections, 
and  that  he  had  not  all  the  gifts  and  graces  of  a 
perfect  man,  may  be  admitted  without  any  impair 
ment  of  the  claims  made  for  him.  Phillips  was  a 
more  brilliant  and  impassioned  orator,  but  he  has 
remained  in  private  station.  Webster's  was  a 
grander  and  broader  mind,  and  fuller  of  varied 


llazcl  Blossoms.  301 

resources,  but  his  life  was  darkened  by  a  fatal  com 
promise  with  wrong.  There  were  greater  lawyers 
tl  1:111  Simmer,  both  as  members  of  our  courts  :m<l 
\ponents  of  the  laws  of  nations  ;  there  were 
abolitionists  whose  life-long  services  antedate  and 
surpass  his  own;  there  were  scholars  and  poets 
whose  perception  of  beauty  and  knowledge  of  letters, 
and  whose  command  of  pure  idiomatic  English,  were 
quite  beyond  his.  But  to  make  up  the  sum  of  his 
capacity  and  accomplishment  we  must  take  the  best 
I  >;irts  and  rarest  achievements  of  many  picked  men. 
The  extended  view  of  Sumner  in  this  poem  is  in 
i- very  way  admirable.  Some  truisms  are  inevi 
table  in  the  eulogy  of  a  friend,  but  the  successive 
stanzas  generally  have  something  important  to  add, 
and  are  not  merely  cumulative.  It  is  a  fitting 
tribute  to  the  most  representative  of  Northern 
statesmen  from  the  most  intensely  American  poet. 

"  The  marble  image  of  her  son 

Her  loving  hands  shall  yearly  crown, 
And  from  her  pictured  Pantheon 
His  grand,  majestic  face  look  down. 

"  O  State,  so  passing  rich  before, 

Who  now  shall  doubt  thy  highest  claim  ? 
The  world  that  counts  thy  jewels  o'er 
Shall  longest  pause  at  SUMNER'S  name  !  " 

There  is  a  charm  in  these  later  poems  quite  be 
yond  analysis.      They   are   not   simply  beautiful  ; 


302  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

they  have  an  atmosphere  which  subdues  us,  while 
the  nobility  of  thought  inspires,  and  the  sense  of 
holiness  descends  upon  our  souls.  It  seems  as  if 
the  voice  were  from  the  heights,  and  the  singer  far 
away,  climbing  towards  the  transfiguration. 

"The  Prayer  of  Agassiz "  has  this  quality, — 
lifting  contemplation  "  from  nature  up  to  nature's 
God."  In  "  John  Underbill "  we  see  the  serene 
pity  of  a  humane  soul  for  human  frailty,  —  the 
spirit  of  Jesus  shown  in  the  sentence,  "  Neither  do 
I  condemn  thee  :  go,  and  sin  no  more."  In  "  The 
Friend's  Burial "  —  that  of  a  woman  beloved  of  the 
poet's  mother  —  is  seen  the  most  exquisite  tender 
ness  of  feeling  revealed  by  the  most  sympathetic 
touches  of  art.  It  is  in  its  tone  that  the  unobtru 
sive  power  of  the  poet  is  felt.  The  air  is  pervaded 
as  by  undulations  of  sorrow,  and  inanimate  nature 
seems  to  throb  with  the  general  grief :  — 

"  No  sound  should  break  the  quietude 

Alike  of  earth  and  sky ;  — 
O  wandering  wind  in  Seabrook  *  wood 
Breathe  but  a  half-heard  sigh  ! 

"  Sing  softly,  spring  bird,  for  her  sake ; 

And  thou  not  distant  sea, 

Lapse  lightly  as  if  Jesus  spake, 

And  thou  wert  Galilee  !  " 

1  Seabrook  is  a  town  in  New  Hampshire,  not  far  from  the  border 
of  Massachusetts. 


Hazel  Blossoms.  303 

Quoting  from  a  poem  like  this  is  like  cutting  a 
square  from  a  landscape  of  Corot.  The  beauty  is 
entire,  and  enwraps  the  whole  as  in  a  luminous 
veil. 

In  the  "  Sea  Dream "  there  is  an  attraction  of 
a  different  nature.  The  sea  and  its  shore  are 
sketched  with  free  and  masterly  strokes,  and  then 
appears  a  singer  with  the  memory  of  a  lasting 
sorrow,  and  we  hear  his  voice  of  melody  apostro 
phizing  his  beloved :  — 

"  Thou  art  not  here,  thou  art  not  there, 

Thy  place  I  cannot  see ; 
I  only  know  that  where  thou  art 
The  blessed  angels  be, 
And  heaven  is  glad  for  thee. 

"  Forgive  me  if  the  evil  years 

Have  left  on  me  their  sign ; 
Wash  out,  O  soul  so  beautiful, 
The  many  stains  of  mine 
In  tears  of  love  divine  1 

"  I  could  not  look  on  thee  and  live 

If  thou  wert  by  my  side  ; 
The  vision  of  a  shining  one, 
The  white  and  heavenly  bride, 
Is  well  to  me  denied. 

"  But  turn  to  me  thy  dear  girl-face 

Without  the  angel's  crown, 
The  wedded  roses  of  thy  lips, 
Thy  loose  hair  rippling  down 
In  waves  of  golden  brown. 


304  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  Look  forth  once  more  through  space  and  time, 

And  let  thy  sweet  shade  fall 
In  tenderest  grace  of  soul  and  form 
On  memory's  frescoed  wall, 
A  shadow,  and  yet  all !  " 

It  is  perhaps  a  frequent  experience  with  imagina 
tive  men,  when  traversing  some  hitherto  unknown 
region,  to  find  the  perceptions  and  memory  playing 
at  cross-purposes,  and  making  new  landscapes  wear 
familiar  looks.  The  startled  faculties  spring  up  as 
if  they  would  say, "  All  this  has  been  visited  before." 
Upon  this  quasi  delusion  is  built  the  poem  entitled 
*  A  Mystery."  The  illusory  nature  of  the  vision 
is  intimated,  while  each  view  is  brought  into  sharp 
relief.  This  is  a  poem  for  poets,  arid  its  subtile 
elements  will  linger  in  memory  long  after  its 
images  and  details  of  description  have  been  lost  in 
the  haze  of  the  past.  It  is  not  Whittier' s  greatest, 
nor  among  his  greatest,  but  it  is  a  poem  which  no 
art  could  compass,  and  at  which  the  merely  culti 
vated  framers  of  verse  must  stop  short.  It  is  of 
the  very  essence  of  poetry,  and  an  attestation  of  the 
poet's  right  divine. 

"  Child  Songs  "  is  pervaded  with  a  benignant 
spirit,  and  will  touch  the  hearts  of  those  who  realize 
the  force  of  the  Master's  words,  "  Of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven." 

"  The  Golden  Wedding  of  Longwood  "  was  written 


v~*/ 


7 


Hazel  Blossoms.  305 

for  tln>  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  marriage  of  John 
and  Hannah  Cox,  of  Kcnnctt,  Penn.,  members  of 
the  Society  of  Friends.  John  Cox,  says  the  poet, 
was  one  of 

"Tin-  iin'-trird  im-n  of  Thirty-ci-lit  who  saw  with  me  the  fall, 
Mi.  1st  roaring   flames   and   shouting  mob,  of  Pennsylvania 
Hall." 

Cox  was  a  neighbor  and  friend  of  Bayard  Taylor, 
who  lived  at  Cedarcroft,  near  by,  and  had  often 
entertained  him  with  Whittier.  The  estate  of 
Longwood,  and  the  whole  region  as  well,  has  an  air 
of  quiet  beauty,  with  evident  plenty  and  prosperity. 
AYhitt  ier's  recollections  of  this  rich  farming  country, 
and  of  the  hospitality  of  its  people,  are  exceedingly 
pleasant.1  The  bounty  of  nature  and  the  mild  cli 
mate  were  in  strong  contrast  with  the  sterile  soil 
and  bitter  winds  of  Massachusetts. 

"  Again  before  me,  with  your  names,  fair  Chester's  landscape 

comes, 

Its  meadows,  woods,  and  ample  barns,  and  quaint  stone- 
builded  homes. 

"  The   smooth-shorn  vales,  the   whcaten  slopes,  the  boscage 

green  and  soft, 
Of  which  their  poet  sings  so  well  from  towered  Cedarcroft." 

The  poems  of  Elizabeth  H.  Whittier,  or  rather  a 
limited  number  of  them,  are  contained  in  "  Hazel 

1  It  seems  probable  that  this  is  the  scene  in  which  "  Maud 

Muller  "  is  located. 

20 


306  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Blossoms."  The  collection  is  all  too  brief,  and 
could  have  been  greatly  extended.  In  the  intro 
duction  Whittier  says  that  his  sister  was  distrustful 
of  her  powers,  without  ambition,  and  inclined  to 
shun  publicity.  "  Yet  it  has  always  seemed  to  me," 
he  adds,  "  that  had  her  health,  sense  of  duty  and 
fitness,  and  her  extreme  self-distrust  permitted, 
she  might  have  taken  a  high  place  among  lyrical 
singers."  These  poems  attest  the  correctness  of 
his  judgment.  "  Dr.  Kane  in  Cuba  "  is  always  read 
with  warm  appreciation,  both  of  its  spirit  and  of  its 
rounded  art.  As  much  can  be  said  also  of  "  The 
Wedding  Yeil,"  quoted  in  a  preceding  chapter. 

The  repeated  references  to  this  beloved  sister 
throughout  Whittier's  later  poems  show  how  close 
were  the  ties  that  bound  them,  and  what  a  sense 
of  desolation  came  upon  him  after  her  departure. 
Many  poems,  such,  for  instance,  as  "  The  Van- 
ishers,"  were  inspired  in  whole  or  in  part  by  the 
memory  of  this  rooted  sorrow. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

SEVENTIETH   BIRTHDAY. 

Dinner  given  by  the  Publishers  of  the  "Atlantic."  —  "SVhittier's 
Response.  —  Longfellow.  —  Emerson.  —  Holmes.  —  "Warner.  — 
Howells.  —  Norton.  —  The  "  Literary  World's"  Symposium.  — 
Tributes.  —  Bryant  (in  prose).  —  Mrs.  Stowe.  —  President  Eliot. 
—  "  Deer  Island's  Mistress." 


publishers  of  the  "  Atlantic  Monthly  "  gave 
a  dinner  in  honor  of  Whittier  on  his  seventieth 
birthday  (December  17,  1877),  at  Hotel  Brunswick, 
in  Boston.  Invitations  had  been  sent  to  the  lead 
ing  poets  and  writers  of  New  England  and  New 
York,  and  between  sixty  and  seventy  guests  were 
present.  Mr.  Houghton,  the  senior  publisher,  pre 
sided,  and  at  the  head  of  the  table  on  one  side  were 
Whittier,  Emerson,  and  Longfellow,  and  on  the 
other  Holmes,  Howells,  and  Charles  Dudley  War 
ner.  Mr.  Houghton,  in  a  felicitous  speech,  intro 
duced  the  guest  of  the  evening,  who,  upon  rising, 
was  heartily  cheered.  Mr.  Whittier  excused  him 
self  from  speak  i  nir.  I  nit  stated  that  he  had  written 


308  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  a  little  bit  of  verse  "  which  his  friend  Longfellow 
would  read.     The  following  is  the 

RESPONSE. 

Beside  that  milestone  where  the  level  sun, 

Nigh  unto  setting,  sheds  his  last,  low  rays 

On  word  and  work  irrevocably  done, 

Life's  blending  threads  of  good  and  ill  outspun, 

I  hear,  O  friends !  your  words  of  cheer  and  praise, 

Half  doubtful  if  myself  or  otherwise, 

Like  him  in  the  old  Arabian  joke, 

A  beggar  slept  and  crowned  Caliph  woke. 

Thanks  not  the  less.     With  not  unglad  surprise 

I  see  my  life-work  through  your  partial  eyes ; 

Assured,  in  giving  to  my  home-taught  songs 

A  higher  value  than  of  right  belongs, 

You  do  but  read  between  the  written  lines 

The  finer  grace  of  unfulfilled  designs. 

Mr.  Emerson  was  next  introduced,  and  in  place 
of  a  contribution  of  his  own  read  Whittier's  poem 
"  Ichabod." 

Mr.  Howells  came  next,  with  a  brilliant  retro 
spect  of  the  "  Atlantic "  and  its  corps  of  writers, 
mentioning  with  especial  praise  Holmes  and  Lowell. 
It  was  a  most  fortunate  effort,  generous  and  hearty 
as  it  was  graceful. 

Professor  Norton  responded  for  Lowell,  who  at 
that  time  was  our  Minister  in  Spain. 

Dr.  Holmes  followed  with  one  of  his  indescrib 
able  poems,  in  which  he  characterized  the  works  of 


Seventieth  Birthday.  309 

Longfellow,  Emerson,  Lowell,  and  Whittier.  The 
ease  <>t'  tin-  mrasmv,  and  the  occasional  banter  that 
relieved  and  set  off  the  serious  passages,  might 
lead  some  to  consider  this  only  a  clever  piece  of 
society  verse.  But  beneath  the  playfulness  there 
is  a  power  of  sharp  portraiture  which  no  prosaic 
critic  could  approach.  We  copy  the  portion  that 
refers  to  Whittier  :  — 

"And  the  wood-thrush  of  Essex,  —  you  know  whom  I  mean, 
Whose  soiiir  echoes  round  us  while  he  sits  unseen, 
Whose  heart-throbs  of  verse  through  our  memories  thrill 
Like  a  breath  from  the  wood,  like  a  breeze  from  the  hill, 
So  fervid,  so  simple,  so  loving,  so  pure, 
We  hear  but  one  strain,  and  our  verdict  is  sure,  — 
Thee  cannot  elude  us,  —  no  further  we  search,  — 
'T  is  holy  George  Herbert  cut  loose  from  the  church  1 
Wi-  think  it  the  voice  of  a  seraph  that  sings, — 
Alas,  we  remember  that  angels  have  wings  :  — 
What  story  is  this  of  the  day  of  his  birth? 
Let  him  live  to  a  hundred !  we  want  him  on  earth  ! 
One  life  has  been  paid  him  (in  gold)  by  the  sun; 
One  account  has  been  squared  and  another  begun ; 
But  he  never  will  die  if  he  lingers  below 
Till  we  've  paid  him  in  love  half  the  balance  we  owe." 

Letters  of  regret  were  read  from  the  venerable 
poet  Bryant,  from  George  William  Curtis,  T.  B. 
Aldrich,  Bayard  Taylor,  Dr.  William  Everett,  John 
Hay,  Dr.  J.  G.  Holland,  Clarence  Cook.  Poems 
were  contributed  by  R.  H.  Stoddard,  John  James 
Piatt,  the  Rev.  John  Weiss,  and  others.  As  the 


3 1  o  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

tables  were  filled  with  men  of  eminence,  the  speak 
ing  was  unusually  interesting.  One  feature  in  the 
entertainment  was  wholly  unique,  —  as  it  was  un 
expected.  Mr.  Clemens,  known  by  the  pseudonym 
of  "  Mark  Twain,"  read  a  sketch  in  which  Emerson, 
Longfellow,  Holmes,  and  Whittier  were  made  to 
figure  as  masqueraders  in  the  guise  of  California 
roughs.  It  was  audacious,  and  perhaps  in  ques 
tionable  taste ;  but  nothing  more  comic  was  ever 
conceived.  The  manner  in  which  the  poets  were 
supposed  to  have  pelted  each  other  with  quotations 
was  wholly  irresistible. 

The  celebration  of  the  birthday  was  not  confined 
to  the  "  Atlantic  "  coterie.  The  "  Literary  World," 
of  Boston,  issued  a  special  Whittier  number,  with 
contributions  from  leading  authors.  It  contained 
poems  by  Longfellow,  Holmes,  Bayard  Taylor,  Sted- 
man,  Celia  Thaxter,  Mrs.  Child,  Dr.  J.  F.  Clarke, 
Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps,  and  others  ;  also  brief  trib 
utes  in  prose  from  many  eminent  writers.  We  find 
room  for  a  few  only. 

THE    THREE    SILENCES. 
BY  HENRY  W.   LONGFELLOW. 

Three  Silences  there  are  ;  the  first  of  speech, 
The  second  of  desire,  the  third  of  thought ; 
This  is  the  lore  a  Spanish  monk,  distraught 
With  dreams  and  visions,  was  the  first  to  teach. 
These  silences,  commingling  each  with  each, 


Seventieth  J >//•///</«//.  311 

Made  up  the  perfect  Silence  that  lie  sought 
And  prayed  for,  and  wherein  at  timrs  la-  caught 
KCjsterioUB  >onnds  t'rom  realms  beyond  our  reach. 
()  thou,  whose  daily  life  anticipates 
The  life  to  come,  and  in  whose  thought  and  word 
Tlii-  spiritual  world  preponderates. 
Hermit  of  Amesbury  !  thou  too  hast  heard 
Voices  and  melodies  from  beyond  the  gates, 
And  speakest  only  when  thy  soul  is  stirred  ! 

THE    GOLDEN    CALENDAR. 
BY   OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 

Count  not  the  years  that  hoarding  time  has  told, 

Save  by  the  starry  memories  in  their  train; 

Not  by  the  vacant  moons  that  wax  and  wane, 

Nor  all  the  seasons'  changing  robes  enfold  ; 

Look  on  the  life  whose  record  is  unrolled ! 

Bid  thought,  word,  action,  breathe,  burn,  strive  again, 

Old  altars  flame  whose  ashes  scarce  are  cold, 

Bid  the  freed  captive  clank  his  broken  chain  ! 

So  will  we  count  thy  years  and  months  and  days, 

Poet  whose  heart-strings  thrill  upon  thy  lyre, 

Whose  kindling  spirit  lent  like  Hecla's  fire 

Its  heat  to  Freedom's  faint  auroral  blaze, 

But  waste  no  words  the  loving  soul  to  tire 

That  finds  its  life  in  duty,  not  in  praise ! 

[From  W.  C.. Bryant] 

I  should  be  glad  to  celebrate  in  verse  the  seventieth 
return  of  John  Greenleaf  Whittier's  birthday,  if  the 
thoughts  and  words  fitting  for  such  an  occasion  would 
come  at  call,  to  be  arranged  in  some  poetic  form,  but  1 
find  that  I  must  content  myself  with  humble  prose.  Let 


3 1 2  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

me  say,  then,  that  I  rejoice  at  the  dispensation  which  has 
so  long  spared  to  the  world  a  poet  whose  life  is  as  beau 
tiful  as  his  verse,  who  has  occupied  himself  only  with 
noble  themes,  and  treated  them  nobly  and  grandly,  and 
whose  songs  in  the  evening  of  life  are  as  sweet  and  thrill 
ing  as  those  of  his  vigorous  meridian.  If  the  prayers  of 
those  who  delight  in  his  poems  shall  be  heard,  that  life 
will  be  prolonged  in  all  its  beauty  and  serenity  for  the 
sake  of  a  world  which  is  the  better  for  his  having  lived ; 
and  far  will  be  the  day  when  all  that  we  have  of  him  will 
be  his  writings  and  his  memory. 

[From  Francis  Parkman,  the  historian.] 
John   G.   Whittier,    the   poet  of   New    England :    his 
genius  drew  its  nourishment  from  her  soil ;  his  pages  are 
the  mirror  of  her  outward  nature,  and  the  strong  utter 
ance  of  her  inward  life. 

[From  Mrs.  H.  B.  Stowe.] 

I  am  glad  that  there  is  to  be  a  tribute  of  affectionate 
remembrance  on  the  seventieth  birthday  of  our  friend 
Mr.  Whittier.  He  is  the  true  poet  whose  life  is  a  poem, 
and  our  friend  has  received  grace  of  the  Father  to  live 
such  a  life.  His  life  has  been  a  consecration,  his  songs 
an  inspiration,  to  all  that  is  highest  and  best.  It  has 
been  his  chief  glory,  not  that  he  could  speak  inspired 
words,  but  that  he  spoke  them  for  the  despised,  the  help 
less,  and  the  dumb ;  for  those  too  ignorant  to  honor,  too 
poor  to  reward  him.  Grace  was  given  him  to  know  his 
Lord  in  the  lowest  disguise,  even  that  of  the  poor  hunted 
slave,  and  to  follow  him  in  heart  into  prison  and  unto 


Seventieth  ]>irlh<1(tt/.  313 

death.  He  had  words  of  pity  for  all  —  words  of  severity 
for  none  but  the  cruel  and  hard-hearted.  Though  tin-. 
land  beyond  this  world  be  more  beautiful  and  more  worthy 
»>f  him,  let  us  pray  the  Father  to  spare  him  to  us  yet 
more  years,  and  to  fill  those  years  with  blessing. 

[Signed  "H."] 

When  Whittier's  biography  shall  be  written,  —  distant 
be  the  day !  —  the  world  will  know  something  more  of 
the  helpful  and  affectionate  companionship  between  him 
and  the  sister  whose  beautiful  life  is  already  commemo 
rated  in  his  verse.  She  was  his  critic,  counsellor,  and  best 
friend.  She  had  a  wonderful  imagination,  and  excelled 
as  a  story-teller.  Elizabeth  Whittier  must  have  been  a 
delightful  woman,  whose  very  presence  brought  gladness. 
One  who  knew  her  says :  "  She  sometimes  visited  at  my 
father's  house,  and  all  of  us  children  used  to  climb  upon 
the  bed  of  an  invalid  sister,  and  listen,  rapt,  to  Elizabeth, 
who,  sitting  at  the  foot,  told  us  stories  by  the  hour." 

[From  President  Eliot,  of  Harvard  College.] 
A  great  multitude  wjll  gladly  join  in  celebrating  Mr. 
Whit  tier's  seventieth  birthday.  They  who  love  their 
country  wrill  thank  him  for  the  verses,  sometimes  pa 
thetic,  sometimes  stirring,  which  helped  to  redeem  that 
country  from  a  great  sin  and  shame ;  they  who  rejoice 
in  natural  beauty  will  thank  him  that  he  has  delight 
fully  opened  their  eyes  to  the  varied  charms  of  the 
rough  New  England  landscape,  by  highway,  river,  moun 
tain,  and  sea-shore ;  they  who  love  God  will  thank  him 
from  their  hearts  for  the  tenderness  and  simple  trust  \\ith 
which  he  has  sung  of  the  Infinite  Goodness. 


314  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

The  celebration  in  Boston  was  noticed  through 
out  the  United  States  and  in  England.  The  num 
ber  of  poems  and  prose  tributes  was  enormous. 
There  is  a  scrap-book  on  the  author's  table  con 
taining  over  seventy  pages  of  articles,  —  mostly 
newspaper  clippings  in  triple  columns  of  compact 
type.  The  occasion  showed  that  the  noble  life  and 
labors  of  the  venerable  poet  were  held  by  all  men 
in  honor  and  affectionate  remembrance.  Many  of 
the  articles  are  marked  by  high  literary  qualities, 
and  some  are  seen  to  be  throbbing  with  tender 
recollections.  The  scrap-book  contains  also  sev 
eral  poems  in  manuscript,  written  by  life-long 
friends,  which  were  not  intended  for  publication. 

We  copy  an  article  from  the  u  New  York  Even 
ing  Post,"  believed  to  have  been  written  by  the 
poet  Bryant,  as  a  fair  specimen  of  the  general 
comment. 

WHITTIER. 

What  words  of  ours  can  add  one  touch  of  green  to  the 
bays  with  which  the  poet  Whittier  is  crowned  on  this  the 
seventieth  anniversary  of  his  birth  ?  His  fame  is  securely 
rooted  in  the  hearts  of  the  great  English-speaking  race  of 
men,  and  his  praise  is  not  a  chorus  which  needs  swelling 
by  loudly  attuned  voices.  His  simple  ballads,  breathing 
the  very  life-breath  of  truth  and  nature,  are  in  the  hands, 
the  memories,  the  hearts,  of  men  and  women  and  children 
all  over  the  land.  He  is  canonized  already  of  the  people, 


Seven/ id  k  Birthday.  315 

and  his  place  in  the  poetic  calendar  is  too  firmly  fixed  to 
be  altered  by  any  critieal  examination  of  his  works;  and 
yet  it  seems  to  us  that  critical  examination  is  still  neces- 
>ary,  if  for  no  other  reason,  because  there  is  a  popular 
misapprehension,  as  we  think,  of  tin;  nature  and  source 
of  AVhittier's  power.  Even  critics  are  misled  sometimes 
by  the  notion  that  the  Quaker  poet  owes  much  of  his 
fame  to  his  early  championship  of  the  anti-slavery  cause. 
The  fact  is  that  when  Whittier  first  undertook  to  do 
battle  for  the  slave,  the  sentiments  as  well  as  the  opin 
ions  of  men  in  this  country  were  hostile  to  the  cause  in 
which  he  enlisted;  and  his  course  in  declaring  himself  an 
abolitionist  and  proving  his  faith  abundantly  in  his  works 
hindered  rutlier  than  helped  his  efforts  to  gain  tin-  <-;ir 
and  the  heart  of  the  people.  There  are  men  and  women 
certainly  whose  road  to  literary  success,  or  to  popularity 
of  other  kinds,  has  been  made  smooth  by  anti-slavery 
opinions  ;  but  these  came  later.  They  wrote  when  to 
utter  sentiments  of  hostility  to  slavery  was  to  give  expres 
sion  to  that  which  the  great  heart  of  the  people  felt  and 
ached  to  utter ;  and  the  literary  worth  of  their  work  was 
magnified  because  it  was  seen  through  the  lens  of  a  deep, 
earnest,  passionate  public  sentiment.  In  Wliittier's  case, 
however,  the  reverse  of  this  was  true.  He  made  himself 
the  champion  of  the  slave  when  hostility  to  slavery  was 
understood,  by  the  general  mind  of  the  country,  to  mean 
black  treason,  when  to  say  aught  against  the  national 
curse  was  to  draw  upon  one's  self  the  bitterest  hatred, 
loathing,  and  contempt  of  the  great  majority  of  men 
throughout  the  land. 

He  won  his  way  to  fame  as  a  poet,  notwithstanding  his 


3i 6  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

anti-slavery  earnestness,  rather  than  by  reason  of  it.  He 
marched  straight  up  hill,  with  a  heavy  load  upon  his 
shoulders ;  and  to  call  that  a  help  which  was  in  fact  a 
sore  hindrance,  however  much  it  might  have  helped  at 
a  later  day,  is  to  lose  sight  of  the  fact  which  most  strongly 
attests  the  genuineness  of  Whittier's  genius. 

For  ourselves,  we  find  the  chief  source  of  his  poetic 
power  where  it  is  pleasantest  to  find  it,  in  the  intense 
truthfulness,  naturalness,  and  simplicity  of  his  poetry. 
He  is  a  bard  of  human  nature,  and  he  has  helped  human 
nature  in  honoring  it.  As  truthful  and  as  candid  as 
Wordsworth,  he  is  less  metaphysical  —  simpler.  Under 
neath  the  calm  exterior  of  the  Quaker  he  has  the  enthu 
siasm  of  the  warmest  poetic  nature,  and  he  has  known 
how  to  make  hearts  throb  violently  in  contemplation  of 
noble  deeds  in  common  life.  He  has  interpreted  the 
thought  of  a  rural  maiden  and  made  us  share  her  day 
dreaming.  He  has  uttered  for  us  the  deep  admiration 
which  chokes  us  when  we  see  in  common  life  the  heroism 
of  such  men  as  Conductor  Bradley.  In  a  word,  Whittier 
has  been  and  is  the  truthful  voice  of  the  every-day  life  of 
this  time ;  he  is  the  poet  of  our  work-a-day  world.  Let 
us  hope  that  the  years  of  his  healthful  old  age  may  be 
lengthened,  and  that  they  may  bring  with  them  only  the 
peace  which  belongs  to  the  evening  of  a  well-used  day. 

In  Whittier's  poem,  "  June  on  the  Merrimac," 
occurs  this  stanza :  — 

"  The  Hawkswood  oaks,  the  storm-torn  plumes 

Of  old  pine-forest  kings, 
Beneath  whose  century-woven  shade 
Deer  Island's  mistress  sings." 


Seventieth  liirtblai/.  317 

Ilawkswood  is  the  name  of  a  beautiful  residence 
on  the  river,  not  far  above  Newburyport,  built  in  a 
remnant  of  an  aboriginal  forest  by  the  Rev.  J.  C. 
Fletcher,  the  well-known  traveller.*  Just  below  it 
is  Deer  Island,  a  beautiful  and  grassy  but  irregular 
ellipse,  covered  in  part  with  ancient  trees,  mostly 
sombre  and  venerable  pines,  and  resting  on  founda 
tions  of  granite  in  the  midst  of  the  powerful  cur 
rent.  On  one  side  there  is  a  sheer  wall  of  rock 
forty  feet  above  the  water.  A  chain  bridge  crosses 
the  river  over  the  island.  Near  as  the  trees  are  to 
the  travelled  road,  they  shelter  hawks,  crows,  and 
kingfishers,  with  now  and  then  eagles  and  herons ; 
and  in  stormy  weather  are  heard  the  cries  of  sea- 
fowl  winging  along  the  river.  Broad  apple-trees 
and  familiar  shrubs  relieve  the  level  about  the 
roomy  and  comfortable  old  house ;  and  around 
the  margin,  and  far  down  in  the  crevices  of  the 
blackened  and  lichened  rocks,  in  graceful  disorder, 
arc  bushes  of  lilac  and  sumac,  draperies  of  clema 
tis,  and  lonely  wild  flowers.  The  western  outlook 
along  the  river,  as  seen  from  under  the  stately 
trees,  is  something  to  remember.  It  is  one  of  the 
most  picturesque  spots  in  New  England.  The  sin 
gular  beauty,  the  quiet,  and  the  sense  of  seclusion 
wrap  one  around  as  with  the  silken  folds  of  a 
dream. 


3i 8  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"Deer  Island's  mistress"  is  Harriet  Prescott 
Spofford,  an  author  of  deserved  renown  both  in 
prose  and  verse.  She  contributed  to  one  of  the 
early  numbers  of  the  "  Atlantic  "  a  story  of  re 
markable  merit,  "  In  a  Cellar " ;  and  since  that 
time  she  has  been  a  prolific  writer  of  fiction.  She 
has  the  clear  sight,  the  vivida  vis,  and  the  brilliant 
expression,  which  mark  imaginative  minds. 

We  copy  a  poem  by  her  in  honor  of  Whittier, 
entitled  "  Our  Neighbor ; "  also  one  by  her  hus 
band,  Richard  S.  Spofford,  a  lawyer  by  profession, 
with  literary  tastes,  and  a  devoted  friend  of  our 
poet.  Mr.  Whittier  has  expressed  peculiar  satisfac 
tion  with  these  friendly  tributes  from  neighbors, 
and  admired  especially  the  free  movement  and 
crystal  brightness  of  the  poem  from  the  less  prac 
tised  hands  of  a  busy  man. 

OUR   NEIGHBOR. 

BY  HARRIET  PRESCOTT  SPOITORD. 

Old  neighbor,  for  how  many  a  year 
The  same  horizon,  stretching  here, 
Has  held  us  in  its  happy  bound 
From  Bivermouth  to  Ipswich  Sound ! 
How  many  a  wave-washed  day  we  've  seen 
Above  that  low  horizon  lean, 
And  marked  within  the  Merrimac 
The  self-same  sunset  reddening  back, 
Or  in  the  Powow's  shining  stream, 
That  silent  river  of  a  dream ! 


Seventieth  Birthday. 

Where  Cram-neck  o'er  the  woody  gloom 
Lifts  her  steep  mile  of  apple-bloom ; 
Where  Salisbury  Sand-,  in  yellow  length, 
With  the  great  breaker  measure  strength; 
Where  Artichoke  in  >hadow  slides, 
The  lilv  <>n  her  painted  tides.— 
There's  naught  in  the  enchanted  view 
That  does  not  seem  a  part  of  you  ; 
Your  legends  hang  on  every  hill, 
Your  songs  have  made  it  dearer  still. 

Yours  is  the  river-road ;  and  yours 
Are  all  the  mighty  meadow  floors 
Where  the  long  Hampton  levels  lie 
Alone  between  the  sea  and  sky. 
Fresher  in  Follymill  shall  blow 
Tin-  Ma\ -flowers,  that  you  loved  them  so; 
Prouder  Deer  Island's  ancient  pines 
Toss  to  their  measure  in  your  lines  ; 
And  purplcr  gleam  old  Appledore, 
Because  your  foot  has  trod  her  shore. 

Still  shall  the  great  Cape  wade  to  meet 
The  storms  that  fawn  about  her  feet, 
The  summer  evening  linger  late 
In  many-rivered  Stackyard  Gate, 
When  we,  when  all  your  people  here, 
Have  fled  ;  but  like  the  atmosphere 
You  still  the  region  shall  surround, 
The  spirit  of  the  sacred  ground, 
Though  you  have  risen,  as  mounts  the  star, 
Into  horizons  vaster  far  1 


320  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

MERRIMAC   RIVER   AND   POET. 

BY  RICHARD   8.    SPOFFORD. 

Long  as  thy  pebbly  shores  shall  keep 
Their  tides,  O  gallant  river, 

Thy  mountain  heights  to  ocean's  deep 
Their  crystal  streams  deliver,  — 

Long  as  her  bugle  on  thy  hills 
The  hosts  of  Freedom  rallies, 

And  Labor's  choral  anthem  fills 
Thy  loveliest  of  valleys,  — 

So  long  thy  poet's  praise  and  thine 
Shall  live,  the  years  descending, 

Thy  ripple  and  his  flowing  line 
Like  song  with  music  blending  1 

As  widens  to  the  waitino-  sea 

C5 

Thy  course,  by  hill  and  meadow, 
So  flows  his  sweet  humanity 

Through  circling  sun  and  shadow. 

While  hallowed  thus,  no  mortal  ban 
Unpitying  Time  imposes, 

His  life  who  loves  his  fellow-man 
Wins  Heaven  before  it  closes ! 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

"THE  VISION  OF  ECHARD."  —  "THE  KING'S  MISSIVE." 

Love  outlives  the  Passions.  —  "  The  Henchman  "  an  Ideal  Love- 
Poem.  —  The  Subjective  Poetry  of  Landscapes.  —  The  Poet 
sometimes  the  Servant  of  his  Inspiration.  —  The  Quaker  Woman 
in  the  Old  South.  —  "  Eventide,"  a  Retrospect.  — Quaint  Abram 
Morrison.  —  Death  busy  among  Friends.  —  The  Doctrine  of 
Eternal  Love. 

TTTE  are  accustomed  to  make  distinctions  in  re 
gard  to  poetry  which  are  more  apparent 
than  real.  We  hear  of  the  poetry  of  the  senses 
and  passions,  —  of  the  heart  or  the  affections, — 
of  the  intellectual  nature,  and  of  the  moral  or 
spiritual  nature  ;  but  while  these  distinctions  are 
based  on  clearly  perceived  differences  in  the  pro 
ductions  of  poets,  there  is  at  bottom  the  fallacious 
assumption  of  the  existence  of  more  than  one  think 
ing,  feeling,  will-ing  principle  in  man.  The  Ego  is 
subtile  and  many-visaged.  When  we  assign  to  per 
ception,  judgment,  emotion,  and  conscience  a  co 
ordinate  existence,  we  are  only  vaguely  account  in- 
for  the  swift  and  dazzling  changes  in  the  modes  of 


322  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

mental  action.  The  mysterious  Being  within  is 
simultaneously  witness,  expert,  advocate,  recorder, 
judge,  and  executant. 

Poetry  written  in  youth  naturally  shows  an  ex 
uberance  of  feeling,  a  vivid  perception  of  external 
beauty,  an  excess  of  sensuous  joy  or  pain ;  written 
in  manhood,  nerved  by  great  purposes  and  called 
to  high  duties,  it  has  an  energy  corresponding  with 
the  maturity  of  power  and  the  depth  and  wisdom 
that  come  with  experience ;  written  in  later  years, 
when  the  demands  of  the  bodily  nature  are  less 
exigent  and  dominating,  it  is  occupied  with  more 
purely  intellectual  and  moral  perceptions  and 
thoughts,  as  well  as  with  discursive  retrospections 
and  memories. 

It  is  in  this  last  stage  that  the  poet  is  subjected 
to  the  extreme  test.  Many  ardent  natures  in  the 
first  flush  of  youth  give  us  glowing  impressions 
both  of  the  beauty  of  nature  and  of  their  own  fresh 
and  exquisite  sensations.  At  the  acme  of  physical 
and  mental  power  they  are  less  effusive  of  senti 
ment,  more  sparing  of  images  and  epithets,  and 
they  learn  to  put  their  conceptions  in  compact  lines 
with  the  potency  of  proverbs. 

In  few  instances  does  the  poetic  power  retain  its 
vitality  and  spring  beyond  this  stage.  After  a  poet 
has  once  laid  bare  his  virgin  sensibilities,  and  then 


"  The  Vision  of  Echard"  etc.  323 

has  addressed  himself  to  the  highest  work  to  which 
he  is  called,  and  done  his  part,  he  has  generally 
exhausted  his  capabilities ;  and  if  he  continues,  we 
are  apt  to  recognize  mainly  echoes  of  early  song, 
with  a  tendency  towards  moralizing  and  exhor 
tation. 

The  poetry  that  is  born  of  passion  must  languish 
early  ;  that  which  is  concerned  with  external  na 
ture  must  have  its  limits,  for  landscapes  will  not 
satisfy  the  soul  forever;  that  which  is  aroused  by 
the  call  of  duty,  or  by  the  stress  of  a  great  occa 
sion,  will  exhaust  itself  in  the  triumph  or  in  the 
hopelessness  of  the  cause ;  that  which  is  evolved 
from  spiritual  perceptions  and  longings,  which  is 
supplied  from  the  Fountain  of  all  ideas  and  analo 
gies,  and  sustained  by  sure  relation  to  the  great 
Poet  or  Maker,  —  that  alone  is  immortal  and 
unfading. 

Now  comes  the  application  of  the  ancient  saying 
that  "  Memory  is  the  mother  of  the  Muses,"  — not 
the  memory  merely  of  scenes  and  events,  but  the 
power  to  recall  with  them  the  thrilling  emotions 
they  originally  excited.  This  is  the  continuing 
source  and  the  conservation  of  poetic  power  in  the 
later  years  of  life  :  to  be  able  to  renew  at  pleasure 
all  the  keen  sensations  of  the  days  of  young  blood, 
to  keep  command  of  the  vital  experiences  of  man- 


324  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

hood,  and  to  bring  these,  unimpaired,  into  the 
serener  atmosphere  of  age.  That  would  be  an 
ideally  perfect  condition  for  a  creative  soul,  if  its 
accumulated  negatives  of  past  experiences,  thoughts, 
feelings,  and  visions  were  ready  for  the  projection 
of  images  in  their  original  brightness,  and  if  the 
faculties,  after  being  refined  and  spiritualized  by 
long  converse  with  high  and  holy  things,  could  still 
be  reinforced  through  the  "  Mother  of  the  Muses" 
by  all  the  deftness,  grace,  and  tenderness,  all  the 
imaginative  force  and  quenchless  spirit,  and  all 
the  power  of  perceiving  analogies  that  had  ever 
characterized  them.  Such  a  creative  soul  would 
be  a  microcosm,  an  epitome  of  all  powers  and 
perfections. 

But  such  to  a  considerable  degree  is  the  soul  of 
a  poet.  By  his  imagination  he  is  enabled  in  youth 
to  anticipate  the  calm  wisdom  of  age,  —  in  age  to 
recreate  the  ecstatic  sensations  of  youth. 

We  have  seen  Whittier  as  a  barefoot  boy,  first 
stirred  by  the  lyrics  of  Burns,  —  as  a  novice  in 
poetic  art  striving  to  set  his  fancies  in  verse,  —  as 
a  reformer  forcing  his  coy  muse  to  the  hard  service 
he  had  undertaken,  —  as  a  sedate  man  of  middle 
age,  gaining  yearly  in  affluence  of  poetic  similitudes 
and  in  unborrowed  splendor  of  expression.  At  this 
point  we  see  him  crossing  the  allotted  line  of  three- 


"  The  Vision  of  Eclmrd"  etc.          325 

score  years  and  ten; — but  not  old  ;  nor  is  anything 
of  the  past  dead ;  for,  reversing  the  order  of  the 
Chinese  concentric  ivory  spheres,  each  previous 
mental  condition  and  experience  is  still  contained 
one  within  another,  all  clearly  visible  to  him,  and 
all  ready  to  be  lived  over  at  will. 

Is  it  doubted  that  a  man  of  seventy  may  write  of 
love  like  a  youthful  lover  ?  We  shall  for  answer  in 
sert  "  The  Henchman,"  and  ask  readers  to  observe 
the  deathless  feeling  that  animates  it,  the  lightness 
of  touch,  which  few  besides  Tennyson  have  equalled, 
and  the  perfect  tone,  such  as  the  most  courtly  of 
King  Charles's  cavalier  poets  would  have  pro 
nounced  incomparable. 

THE   HENCHMAN. 

My  lady  walks  her  morning  round, 
My  lady's  page  her  fleet  grey  hound, 
My  lady's  hair  the  fond  winds  stir, 
And  all  the  birds  make  songs  for  her. 

Her  thrushes  sing  in  Rathburn  bowers, 
And  Rathburn  side  is  gay  with  flowers  ; 
But  ne'er  like  hers,  in  flower  or  bird, 
Was  beauty  seen  or  music  heard. 

The  distance  of  the  stars  is  hers  ; 
The  least  of  all  her  worshippers, 
The  dust  beneath  her  dainty  heel, 
She  knows  not  that  I  see  or  feel. 


326  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Oh  proud  and  calm !  —  she  cannot  know 
Where'er  she  goes  with  her  I  go  ; 
Oh  cold  and  fair  !  —  she  cannot  guess 
I  kneel  to  share  her  hound's  caress  ! 

Gay  knights  beside  her  hunt  and  hawk, 
I  rob  their  ears  of  her  sweet  talk  ; 
Her  suitors  come  from  east  and  west, 
I  steal  her  smiles  from  every  guest. 

Unheard  of  her,  in  loving  words, 

I  greet  her  with  the  song  of  birds  ; 

I  reach  her  with  her  green-armed  bowers, 

I  kiss  her  with  the  lips  of  flowers. 

The  hound  and  I  are  on  her  trail, 
The  wind  and  I  uplift  her  veil ; 
As  if  the  calm,  cold  moon  she  were, 
And  I  the  tide,  I  follow  her. 

As  unrebuked  as  they,  I  share 
The  license  of  the  sun  and  air, 
And  in  a  common  homage  hide 
My  worship  from  her  scorn  and  pride. 

World-wide  apart,  and  yet  so  near, 
I  breathe  her  charmed  atmosphere, 
Wherein  to  her  my  service  brings 
The  reverence  due  to  holy  things. 

Her  maiden  pride,  her  haughty  name, 
My  dumb  devotion  shall  not  shame  ; 
The  love  that  no  return  doth  crave 
To  knightly  levels  lifts  the  slave. 


"The  Vision  of  Echini"  etc.          327 

No  lance  have  I,  in  joust  or  fight, 
To  splintiT  in  my  lady'-  >i^ht ; 
But,  at  her  foot,  bow  blest  were  I 
For  any  IK-CM  1  of  hers  to  die  1 

Many  love  poems  are  fanciful  merely,  —  more 
playing  at  sentiment  with  pretty  words.  In  this 
there  is  audible  an  undertone  of  tragedy;  the 
HVnrlmiuii  is  as  truly  a  hero  as  any  who  ever  went 
to  death  for  love.  Observe,  too,  the  strokes  of  im 
agination. 

"  I  rob  their  ears  of  her  sweet  talk ; " 
"  I  steal  her  smiles  from  every  guest ;  " 
"  I  greet  her  with  the  songs  of  birds." 

The  title  poem,  "  The  Vision  of  Echard,"  con 
cerns  a  Benedictine  monk  of  Marsl>i-nr,  who  had  a 
vision  and  heard  the  voice  of  God  respecting  the 
traditional  forms  of  worship  and  the  true  service 
of  the  heart.  It  is  an  excellent  homily  upon  spir 
itual  things,  conceived  in  an  exalted  mood  and  ex 
pressed  with  the  poet's  usual  vigor.  Every  stanza, 
and  almost  every  line,  is  quotable  for  power  or  for 
nobility  of  sentiment. 

"  The  Witch  of  Wenham  "  is  a  spirited  ballad 
based  on  an  ancient  colonial  tradition.  The  scene 
is  near  Salem,  anciently  called  Naumkeag,  by  a 
lake  since  famed  both  in  New  and  Old  England  for 
its  pure  crystalline  ice.  The  directness  of  phrase, 


328  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

and  the  many  dramatic  points  in  the  story,  remind 
us  of  the  inimitable  old  ballads  that  have  come 
down  to  us  from  the  times  of  English  Henrys  and 
Edwards. 

"  Sunset  on  the  Bearcamp "  is  a  magnificent 
landscape  in  verse,  one  of  the  finest  of  the  many 
which  Whittier  has  given  us.  Details  enough  there 
are,  but  one  does  not  observe  them  as  if  they  were 
separate  bits  of  mosaic.  The  picture  is  broad  and 
entire,  and  the  impression  is  like  that  left  by  the 
grandeur  of  nature  itself.  A  passage  from  this 
poem  was  quoted  in  a  previous  chapter. 

Of  a  kindred  nature  is  "  The  Seeking  of  the 
Waterfall,"  a  series  of  beautiful  scenes  wherein 
rocks  and  gurgling  brooks,  wild  woods,  granite 
ledges,  and  purple  peaks  allure  us  on  towards  the 
sublime  and  inaccessible. 

"  So,  always  baffled,  not  misled, 
We  follow  where  before  us  runs 
The  vision  of  the  shining  ones. 

"  Not  where  they  seem  their  signals  fly, 
Their  voices  while  we  listen  die ; 
We  cannot  keep,  however  fleet, 
The  quick  time  of  their  winged  feet." 

"  June  on  the  Merrimac "  was  written  for  the 
annual  meeting  at  the  Laurels, —  a  festival  which 
has  been  mentioned  before.  The  tone  of  the  poem 


"The  Vision  of  Echard?  etc.          329 

is  sweet  and  tender,  and  full  of  memories  of  the 
departed :  — 

"You  know  full  well  these  banks  of  bloom, 

The  upland's  wavy  line, 
And  how  the  sunshine  tips  with  fire 
The  needles  of  the  pine. 

"  Yet  like  some  old  remembered  psalm, 

Or  sweet,  familiar  face, 
Not  less  because  of  commonness 
You  love  the  day  and  place. 

"  A  sacred  presence  overbroods 
The  earth  whereon  we  meet; 
These  winding  forest-paths  are  trod 
By  more  than  mortal  feet." 

The  scenery  around  Curzon's  Mill  at  the  conflu 
ence  of  the  "  pictured  Artichoke  "  with  the  Merri- 
inac  is  exceedingly  beautiful.  Mr.  J.  Appleton 
Brown  and  other  eminent  artists  have  found  there 
congenial  subjects. 

Almost  every  writer,  certainly  every  one  who 
owns  to  the  sway  of  moods,  has  been  conscious  of 
being  led  in  regard  to  his  subjects  and  their  treat 
ment.  Poets,  doubtless,  are  influenced  by  airs  that 
never  blow  upon  duller  mortals  ;  and  we  can  be 
lieve  that  when  waiting  for  inspiration  they  may 
not  be  sure  in  what  form  it  will  come.  Burns  has 
expressed  this  with  his  usual  offhand  vigor :  — 


330  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  But  how  the  subject  theme  may  gang 

Let  time  and  chance  determine ; 
Perhaps  it  may  turn  out  a  sang, 
Perhaps  turn  out  a  sermon." 

Whittier  has  gone  deeper  than  this,  and  in  a 
rather  solemn  strain  has  shown  the  subordination 
of  the  soul  to  influences  seen  and  unseen.  Two 
stanzas  from  the  poem  "  Overruled  "  will  show  its 
drift  and  its  remarkable  power :  — 

"  Ah !  small  the  choice  of  him  who  sings 
What  sound  shall  leave  the  smitten  strings  ; 
Fate  holds  and  guides  the  hand  of  art ; 
The  singer's  is  the  servant's  part. 

"  The  wind-harp  chooses  not  the  tone 
That  through  its  trembling  threads  is  blown ; 
The  patient  organ  cannot  guess 
What  hand  its  passive  keys  shall  press." 

In  one  poem  Whittier  has  given  us  what  preachers 
might  call  "  a  realizing  sense  "  of  what  was  meant 
by  a  Quaker  woman's  "bearing  her  testimony." 
Those  who  have  read  the  accounts  of  the  preaching 
by  the  first  disciples  of  Fox,  and  especially  the 
letters  and  diaries  of  those  earnest  and  single- 
minded  people,  will  not  need  to  be  told  that  there 
were  no  improprieties  in  their  dress  or  behavior, 
and  that  their  speech,  though  bold  and  unsparing, 
was  no  more  so  than  were  the  common  utterances 


"The  Vision  of  Ecliard"  etc.  331 

of  Puritans  in  regard  to  Episcopalians  and  others 
from  whom  they  differed.  The  few  remains  of  the 
intelleetual  and  spiritual  life  of  those  self-devoted 
missionaries  show  them  to  have  been  possessed  of 
the  very  spirit  of  Christ.  It  was  after  they  had 
been  forbidden  to  hold  meetings  or  exhort,  —  after 
they  had  been  scourged  from  town  to  town,  and 
flung  in  jail  without  so  much  care  as  would  have 
been  bestowed  upon  a  wounded  dog,  or  banished 
into  the  wilderness,  or  disfigured  by  loss  of  ears, — 
alter  modest  women  had  been  stripped  to  be  exam 
ined  for  witch  marks,  and  after  the  menace  of  the 
gallows  was  forever  present  in  the  consciousness  of 
them  all,  —  it  was  then  that  the  minds  of  some  were 
shaken  and  a  religious  delusion  but  little  removed 
from  insanity  took  possession  of  them ;  and  then 
ensued  the  spectacles  which  have  so  variously 
affected  mankind.  The  Puritans  paraded  these 
isolated  cases  of  apparent  immodesty  as  an  excuse 
for  persecution.  Others  have  reflected  upon  these 
strange  cases  with  an  overwhelming  pity  for  the 
sufferings  and  mental  strain  whicli  led  the  victims 
to  such  deplorable  conduct.  The  poem  is  entitled 
"  In  the  Old  South,  1677."  Three  stanzas  afford 
a  vivid  picture  of  the  enthusiast  who  was  called 
upon,  as  she  believed,  to  denounce  the  unchristian 
conduct  of  the  oppressors  of  the  Friends :  — 


332  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

"  She  came  and  stood  in  the  Old  South  Church, 

A  wonder  and  a  sign, 
With  a  look  the  old-time  sibyls  wore, 
Half  crazed  and  half  divine. 

"  Save  the  mournful  sackcloth  about  her  wound, 

Unclothed  as  the  primal  mother, 
With  limbs  that  trembled  and  eyes  that  blazed 
With  a  fire  she  dared  not  smother. 

"  Loose  on  her  shoulders  fell  her  hair 

With  sprinkled  ashes  gray, 
She  stood  in  the  broad  aisle  strange  and  weird 
As  a  soul  at  the  judgment  day." 

It  is  not  necessary  here  to  quote  her  solemn 
words  of  warning,  nor  to  dwell  upon  the  poet's 
natural  exultation  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the 
principle  of  religious  freedom  has  at  last  been 
acknowledged. 

"  The  Library  "  was  written  for  the  opening  of  a 
free  public  library  in  Haverhill.  It  is  a  very  strong 
production,  tracing  the  slow  progress  of  recording 
ideas  from  the  time  of  pictures  and  symbols  up  to 
the  invention  of  writing  and  printing.  This  is  the 
final  stanza :  — 

"  As  if  some  Pantheon's  marbles  broke 
Their  stormy  trance,  and  lived  and  spoke, 
Life  thrills  along  the  alcoved  hall ; 
The  lords  of  thought  await  our  call." 

"  King  Solomon  and  the  Ants  "  is  a  lesson  in 
humanity  towards  the  lower  orders  of  creation, 


"The  Vision  of  Eclianl"  etc.  333 

showing  how  the  great  king  turned  his  cavalcade 
aside  so  as  not  to  crush  an  ant-hill  in  his  way. 
'•  Red  Riding  ll»od  "  has  a  similar  burden  of  com 
passion  towards  the  birds  and  squirrels,  represent 
ing  a  sensitive  and  generous  child  feeding  them  in 
winter  weather. 

\Ve  may  mention,  in  passing,  the  well-known 
"  Centennial  Hymn,"  two  fine  sonnets  upon  Thiers, 
the  pleasant  tribute  to  Fitz-Greene  Halleck  (who 
was  one  of  the  prominent  poets  when  Whittier  be 
gan  to  write),"  The  Pressed  Gentian,"  and  the  feel 
ing  eulogy  upon  General  Bartlett,  one  of  the  heroes 
of  the  civil  war,  and  who  was  descended  from  an 
Essex  County  family.  "  At  Eventide  "  is  a  charm 
ing  retrospect,  and  in  a  certain  way  is  an  epitome 
of  Whittier's  life. 

"  Poor  and  inadequate  the  shadow-play 
Of  gain  and  loss,  of  waking  and  of  dream, 
Against  life's  solemn  background  needs  must  seem 
At  this  late  hour ;  yet  not  unthankfully 
I  call  to  mind  the  fountains  by  the  way, 
The  breath  of  flowers,  the  bird-song  on  the  spray, 
Dear  friends,  sweet  human  loves,  the  joy  of  giving 
And  of  receiving,  the  great  boon  of  living 
In  grand  historic  years  when  liberty 
Had  need  of  word  and  work,  quirk  sympathies 
For  all  who  fail  and  suffer,  song's  relief, 
Nature's  uncloying  loveliness,  and  rhir-f, 
The  kind  restraining  hand  of  Providence, 
The  inward  witness,  the  assuring  sense 


334  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Of  an  Eternal  Good  which  overlies 
The  sorrow  of  the  world,  Love  which  outlives 
All  sin  and  wrong,  Compassion  which  forgives 
To  the  uttermost,  and  Justice  whose  clear  eyes 
Through  lapse  and  failure  look  to  the  intent, 
And  judge  our  frailty  by  the  life  we  meant." 

"  The  King's  Missive "  renewed  the  discussion 
between  the  friends  of  the  Puritan  and  those  of  the 
Quaker.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Ellis  attempted  to  show 
that  the  poem  was  without  historical  foundation, 
and  Mr.  Whittier  replied  in  an  earnest  defence  of 
the  position  he  had  taken.  The  main  point  made 
by  Dr.  Ellis  is  that  no  record  exists  in  the  books 
showing  that  an  order  of  release  was  passed  by  the 
council.  In  reply  to  which  it  may  be  urged  that  if 
the  council  had  desired  to  retire  silently  from  an 
untenable  position,  it  would  have  been  an  easy  and 
natural  way  to  release  the  prisoners  by  a  verbal 
order.  Thus  much  is  certain :  the  royal  missive 
came,  and  the  imprisoned  Quakers  were  set  at 
liberty.  Whether,  according  to  the  old  maxim,  it 
was  post  hoc  or  propter  hoc  is  not  very  important  — 
in  the  case  of  a  poem. 

In  this  volume  is  found  the  magnificent  poem 
"The  Lost  Occasion,"  referring  to  the  career  of 
Daniel  Webster,  which  has  been  considered  in  a 
previous  chapter. 

"  The   Emancipation   Group "  (Lincoln  looking 


"The  Vision  of  Ecliard"  etc.          335 

down  upon  a  kneeling  negro,  whose  manacles  have 
t;ill.-ii)  stands  in  Park  Square,  Boston.  It  is  the 
work  of  Thomas  Ball,  cast  in  hronze,  and  was  pre 
sented  to  the  city  by  the  Hon.  Moses  Kimball. 

"  Abram  Morrison  "  is  a  poem  which  it  is  difficult 
to  characterize.  Had  Burns  been  a  Quaker  and  a 
New  Englander,  we  should  have  expected  from  him 
a  similar  combination  of  homely  truth,  solid  good 
sense,  tender  recollection,  and  sly  humor.  The 
staple  of  the  verse  is  not  wholly  poetic  in  any  high 
sense.  It  is  rather  a  literal  portraiture  of  a  man 
and  of  an  age  which  have  passed  away.  But  the 
tone  is  hearty  and  natural,  and  it  will  be  read  with 
delight  by  all  who  are  able  to  comprehend  the 
essential  goodness  with  the  droll  external  traits  of 
a  simple,  bucolic  man.  It  is  not  a  poem  to  bo 
rated  among  Whittier's  nobler  and  more  imagina 
tive  productions,  but  it  is  one  that  endears  the  poet 
to  every  reader  who  appreciates  humor  and  enjoys 
the  quaint  delineation  of  character.  "  Po  Hill " 
may  puzzle  the  reader  who  does  not  know  that  the 
people  of  the  neighborhood  thus  shorten  the  old 
Indian  name  of  Powow. 

It  is  the  fate  of  age  to  be  saddened  by  the  de- 
] mil ure  of  friends.  As  the  long  day  draws  near  its 
close  the  blithe  companions  of  morning  and  the 
stout-hearted  workers  of  mid-day  begin  to  fall  by  the 


336  John  Greenleaf  Whitlier. 

way.  The  man  of  seventy  years  might  almost  pass 
his  time  at  funerals  of  his  comrades.  Poems  at  this 
period  are  mostly  elegies,  tributes,  and  sorrowful 
memories.  "  Within  the  Gate  "  testifies  to  the  life 
long  and  devoted  friendship  of  the  poet  for  Mrs. 
Child ;  Bayard  Taylor,  still  in  his  prime,  had  closed 
his  brilliant  career;  and  in  the  poem  the  reader 
will  see  the  familiar  and  affectionate  relation  he 
sustained  to  the  poet's  household ;  Garrison  had 
died  at  a  ripe  age,  in  the  fruition  of  his  great  hope 
for  universal  liberty  and  in  the  fulness  of  conviction 
of  an  immortal  life.  Into  these  poems  Whittier 
has  put  his  whole  heart. 

So  we  may  say  of  his  verses  in  honor  of  "  Our 
Autocrat." 

To  thinking  minds  perhaps  the  most  significant 
of  the  poems  in  this  last  volume  is  "  The  Minister's 
Daughter."  The  just  and  compassionate  nature  of 
Whittier  had  been  moved  by  the  consideration  of 
the  dogma  of  election ;  and  instead  of  resorting 
to  argument  he  touches  the  intellect  through  the 
natural  feelings.  The  child  of  the  grave  Calvinist, 
ignorant  of  proof-texts  and  helpless  in  logic,  is 
made  to  find  the  way  to  her  father's  heart;  and 
by  the  silent  force  of  love  —  the  same  in  creature 
as  in  Creator  —  his  system  topples  down.  The 
narration  is  exquisitely  done. 


"The  Vision  of  Echard"  etc.          337 

"A  Name"  is  addressed  to  Grccnleaf  AVhittirr 
Pickard,  son  of  the  daughter  of  Whittu-r's  brother 
Matthew.  The  first  Grcenleaf  in  the  Colony  came 
from  St.  Malo,  and  bore  the  name  Feuillevert. 
Like  the  poem  written  for  the  young  Allison,  this 
is  singularly  interesting  from  what  it  shows  of  the 
poet's  life  and  character :  — 

A   NAME. 

The  name  the  Gallic  exile  bore, 
St.  Malo  !  from  thy  ancient  mart, 

Became  upon  our  Western  shore 
Greenleaf  for  Feuillevert. 

A  name  to  hear  in  soft  accord 
Of  leaves  by  light  winds  overrun, 

Or  read,  upon  the  greening  sward 
Of  June,  in  shade  and  sun. 

That  name  my  infant  ear  first  heard 
Breathed  softly  with  a  mother's  kiss ; 

His  mother's  own,  no  tenderer  word 
My  father  spake  than  this. 

No  child  have  I  to  bear  it  on  ; 

Be  thou  its  keeper  ;  let  it  take 
From  gifts  well  used  and  duty  done 

New  beauty  for  thy  sake. 

The  fair  ideals  that  outran 

My  halting  footsh-ps  seek  and  find  — 

The  flawless  symmetry  of  man, 
The  poise  of  heart  and  mind. 

22 


338  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Stand  firmly  where  I  felt  the  sway 
Of  every  wing  that  fancy  flew, 

See  clearly  where  I  groped  my  way, 
Nor  real  from  seeming  knew. 

And  wisely  choose,  and  bravely  hold 
Thy  faith  unswerved  by  cross  or  crown, 

Like  the  stout  Huguenot  of  old 
Whose  name  to  thee  comes  down. 

As  Marot's  songs  made  glad  the  heart 
Of  that  lone  exile,  haply  mine 

May,  in  life's  heavy  hours,  impart 
Some  strength  and  hope  to  thine. 

Yet  when  did  Age  transfer  to  Youth 
The  hard-gained  lessons  of  its  day  ? 

Each  lip  must  learn  the  taste  of  truth, 
Each  foot  must  feel  its  way. 

We  cannot  hold  the  hands  of  choice 
That  touch  or  shun  life's  fateful  keys ; 

The  whisper  of  the  inward  voice 
Is  more  than  homilies. 

Dear  boy  !  for  whom  the  flowers  are  born, 
Stars  shine,  and  happy  song-birds  sing, 

What  can  my  evening  give  to  morn, 
My  winter  to  thy  spring ! 

A  life  not  void  of  pure  intent, 

With  small  desert  of  praise  or  blame, 

The  love  I  felt,  the  good  I  meant, 
I  leave  thee  with  my  name. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 
CHAU.UTKUISTICS  OP  WHITTIER'S  VERSE. 

TN  considering  the  sources  of  a  poet's  power,  our 
analysis  is  at  fault  when  identical  qualities 
are  seen  in  distinct  and  opposing  combinations. 
Shakespeare  and  Bacon,  greatest  among  men,  were 
divided  by  a  narrow  line,  —  narrow  but  impas 
sable. 

We  may  know  a  poet  as  a  man,  but  it  is  not  until 
he  sings  that  we  know  he  is  a  poet.  An  examina 
tion  of  his  faculties  no  more  discloses  the  secret  of 
poetic  creation  than  the  dissection  of  the  brain 
reveals  soul.  Has  he  keen  perception  and  reason  ? 
SD  have  the  philosopher  and  logician.  Has  he  en 
thusiasm,  feeling,  and  grace  ?  So  have  the  orator 
and  actor.  Has  he  love  of  beauty  ?  So  has  the 
artist.  Can  he  create  characters  and  lay  bare  the 
secrets  of  the  soul  ?  Great  novelists  do  the  same. 
Can  he  restore  the  dead  past  ?  The  great  historian 
does  this.  Has  ho  sense  of  melody  and  rhythmic; 
form  ?  So  has  the  composer.  In  truth,  unless  we 


34-O  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

consider  the  ability  to  mould  poetic  thought  in  liv 
ing  verse  as  a  distinct  and  incommunicable  faculty, 
there  is  no  single  mental  power  which  the  poet  does 
not  share  with  others.  How  near  were  Webster 
and  Hawthorne  to  being  poets !  There  was  often 
a  Miltonic  grandeur  in  Webster's  periods ;  the  ele 
vation  of  thought  and  the  stately  diction  separated 
them  from  ordinary  prose  utterances ;  and  in  the 
perorations  his  ideas  and  feelings,  kindled  to  white 
heat,  were  poured  out  in  molten  sentences,  incan 
descent  poetry.  The  delicate  and  spiritual  concep 
tions  of  Hawthorne  were  illumined  by  poetic  lights, 
and  are  fully  seen  and  comprehended  only  by  those 
to  whom  the  secret  of  poetry  has  been  revealed. 
Visions  of  grandeur  filled  the  soul  of  the  orator, 
and  a  radiance  of  celestial  beauty  hovered  over  the 
creations  of  the  novelist,  but  neither  of  them  was 
a  maker  of  verse ;  neither  possessed  the  "  faculty 
divine." 

Of  the  writers  of  verse,  how  few  appear  to  have 
been  led  by  a  native,  spontaneous  influence  !  The 
greater  number,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  have  rather 
sought  laboriously  for  inspiration,  and  toiled  for 
what  should  be  the  natural  outflow  of  melody.  A 
visible  effort  is  fatal ;  if  there  is  no  exuberance  of 
thought,  no  natural  beat  of  measure,  no  predesti 
nation  of  rhyme,  the  attempt  only  awakens  com- 


Characteristics  of  Whitticrs  Verse.       341 

miscration.  Equally  fatal  is  the  want  of  p-nuino 
irrling,  or  sincerity:  no  art  can  deceive  us  when 
tliis  quality  is  absent. 

Carlyle  says  (in  characteristic  phrase)  :  — 

"  Much  has  been  written  ;  but  the  perennial  Scriptures 
of  Mankind  have  had  small  accession  :  from  all  English 
Books,  in  rhyme  or  prose,  in  l«-atlu-r  binding  or  in  JKIJUT 
wrappage,  how  many  verses  have  been  added  to  tin •-<•  ? 
Our  most  melodious  Singers  have  >uug  as  from  the  throat 
outwards:  from  tin-  inner  Heart  of  Man,  from  the  great 
Heart  of  Nature,  through  no  Pope  or  Philips,  has  there 
come  any  tone.  The  Oracles  have  been  dumb." 

It  is  from  "  the  inner  heart "  that  the  poems  of 
Whit  tier  have  come;  never  "from  the  throat  out 
wards."  This  is  attested  by  the  answering  hearts 
of  the  vast  multitudes  of  readers.  The  strains  he 
has  sung  have  always  found  their  echoes ;  merely 
as  music  they  have  been  sure  of  responsive  chords  ; 
and  then  (as  Emerson  said  of  oratory) ,  it  is  a  great 
matter  that  there  is  a  man  behind  them. 

In  the  nice  distribution  of  hereditary  faculties, 
impulses,  and  tendencies,  there  had  come  to  his 
share  joy  in  the  presence  of  nature,  a  divine  sense 
of  beauty,  a  perception  of  the  swift  shuttle-play  of 
analogy,  a  reverence  for  what  is  pure  and  noble,  an 
aspiration  towards  spiritual  life,  and,  with  all,  the 
subtile,  unnamed  power  of  commanding  and  array- 


342  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

ing  his  thoughts  and  feelings,  clothing  them  in  apt, 
symbolic  phrases,  subordinating  a  full  and  glowing 
diction  to  melody,  and  so  conveying  to  receptive 
minds  impressions  in  accord  with  universal  experi 
ence,  yet  vitally  new.  The  order  of  thought  and 
the  sequences  of  feeling  may  vary  ;  processes  may 
differ,  or  may  be  beyond  the  sharpest  analysis ;  but 
the  results  of  genius  in  some  way  include  all  modes 
of  mental  action ;  they  are  creations.  "  Labor  and 
learning,"  in  Webster's  phrase,  "  may  toil  for  them 
in  vain." 

As  we  have  seen,  the  early  life  of  Whittier  was 
not  of  a  nature  to  have  fostered  the  growth  of  the 
poetic  faculty.  The  hard  necessity  of  constant 
labor,  the  lack  of  schooling  and  of  books,  the  want 
of  literary  companionship,  advice,  and  encourage 
ment,  the  practical,  plodding  ideas  of  the  time  and 
the  neighborhood,  and  the  austerity  which  prevailed 
among  the  Friends,  were  all  calculated  to  depress 
the  feelings  of  an  ardent  boy,  and  to  turn  him,  if 
anything  could  turn  him,  into  a  prosaic  and  con 
tented  delver  of  the  soil.  That  the  fountain  of 
bright  imaginings  kept  bubbling  in  its  hidden  re 
cess,  when  every  surrounding  influence  tended  to 
choke  its  natural  flow,  is  proof  enough  of  its  origin. 
In  the  light  of  his  after  development  we  see  how 
truly  it  was  a  dual  life  that  he  led.  The  silent 


Characteristic*  of  Whit  tic/*  \'<-rse.       343 

valley  was  vocal  to  him.  The  day  brimmed  it  with 
beauty,  and  tin-  night  arched  it  over  as  with  a  dome 
of  magnificence.  The  songs  of  birds,  their  capri 
cious  motion  and  their  rhythmic  flight,  filled  his 
mind  with  struggling  sensations.  Every  flower 
looked  at  him  with  soul-full  eyes.  The  flocks  and 
herds  were  expressions  of  the  general  joy  as  well 
as  of  the  bounty  of  the  universe.  The  little  brook 
below  the  garden  went  on  with  its  garrulous  solilo 
quy  among  the  stones.  The  broad  velvety  backs 
of  the  hills,  near  and  far,  and  the  skirts  of  forests, 
whether  in  the  glory  of  summer  or  in  the  miracu 
lous  colors  of  autumn,  filled  the  eyes  of  the  boy 
with  uncloying  delight.  All  these  sights  and 
sounds  were  in  an  interior  world,  with  which 
ploughs  and  hoes,  carts  and  crops,  had  nothing 
to  do. 

But  all  was  a  kind  of  dumb  pleasure  until  by  the 
electrical  contact  of  Burns  his  soul  was  awakened 
to  perceive  the  relation  of  the  natural  world  to  the 
world  of  poetic  thought.  The  effect  of  this  kin 
dling  touch  of  genius  we  can  see  in  our  poet's  own 
artless  narration.  Then  began  the  struggle  for 
expression,  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  the  study  of 
models,  and  the  long  apprenticeship  in  .training  the 
nuistery  of  Kiiirlish  and  in  fashioning  it  into  forms 
of  power  and  grace.  Jt  is  a  signal  proof  of  the 


344  J°hn  Greenleaf  Whittier, 

strength  and  versatility  of  Whittier's  native  facul 
ties,  that  with  such  a  meagre  outfit  and  such  inade 
quate  mental  training  he  has  been  able  to  reach  his 
present  position  among  men  of  renown.  A  college- 
bred  youth  has  been  grounded  in  reason  by  exer 
cises-  in  mathematics,  logic,  and  philosophy;  the 
sciences  have  enlarged  his  ideas  of  the  universe  ; 
by  the  study  of  languages  he  has  been  taught  pre 
cision,  finesse,  and  delicacy  in  choice  of  words.  In 
place  of  all  these  priceless  advantages  Whittier  was 
obliged  to  cultivate  his  reasoning  powers  by  dealing 
with  actual,  momentous  questions  ;  his  knowledge 
came  from  wide  but  unmethodical  reading,  and  his 
command  of  language  from  his  own  unassisted 
efforts  in  verse.  Truly,  the  apprenticeship  was 
long,  and  in  some  respects  there  were  elements  to 
be  desired;  but  upon  the  whole  the  results  were 
surprising. 

The  question  frequently  arises  when  we  are  look 
ing  at  the  development  of  a  self-taught  man,  What 
would  have  been  the  effect  of  a  full  and  thorough 
training  under  competent  instructors  ?  There  can 
never  be  a  wholly  satisfactory  answer.  "  College 
training,"  it  has  been  said,  "  polishes  bricks  and 
dulls  diamonds."  Jeffrey  in  his  article  upon 
Burns  makes  some  valuable  suggestions  on  this 
point :  — 


Characteristics  of  JI7/////V/S  Verse.      345 

"We  cannot  conceive  any  one  less  likely  to  be  added 
to  the  short  list  of  original  poets,  than  a  young  man  of 
fine  fancy  and  delicate  tu-te,  who  has  acquired  a  lii.uh 
relish  for  poetry  by  perusing  the  most  celebrated  writers 
and  conversing  with  the  most  intelligent  judges.  The 
head  of  such  a  person  is  filled,  of  course,  with  all  the 
splendid  passages  of  modern  authors,  and  with  the  fine 
and  fastidious  remarks  which  have  been  made  even  on 
those  passages.  When  he  turns  his  eyes,  therefore,  on 
his  own  conceptions  and  designs,  they  can  scarcely  fail  to 
appear  rude  and  contemptible.  lie  is  perpetually  haunted 
by  the  ideal  presence  of  those  great  masters  and  their 
exacting  critics.  .  .  . 

"  But  the  natural  tendency  of  their  studies,  and  by 
far  their  most  common  effect,  is  to  repress  originality 
and  discourage  enterprise ;  and  either  to  change  those 
whom  nature  meant  for  poets  into  mere  readers  of  poetry, 
or  to  bring  them  out  in  the  form  of  witty  parodists  or 
ingenious  imitators.  .  .  . 

"  A  solitary  and  uninstructed  man,  with  lively  feelings 
and  an  inflammable  imagination,  will  often  be  irresistibly 
led  to  exercise  those  gifts,  and  to  occupy  and  relieve  his 
mind  in  poetical  composition ;  but  if  his  education,  his 
reading,  and  his  society  supply  him  with  an  abundant 
store  of  images  and  emotions,  he  will  probably  think  but 
little  of  those  internal  resources,  and  feed  his  mind  con 
tentedly  with  what  has  been  provided  by  the  industry  of 
others.  .  .  . 

"  A  youth  of  quick  parts  and  creative  fancy,  —  with 
just  so  much  reading  as  to  guide  his  ambition  and  rough- 
hew  his  notions  of  excellence,  —  if  his  lot  be  thrown  in 


346  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

humble  retirement  where  he  has  no  reputation  to  lose, 
and  where  he  can  easily  hope  to  excel  all  that  he  sees 
around  him,  is  much  more  likely,  we  think,  to  give  him 
self  up  to  poetry,  and  to  train  himself  to  habits  of  inven 
tion,  than  if  he  had  been  encumbered  by  the  pretended 
helps  of  extended  study  and  literary  society." 

On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  admitted  that  cer 
tain  elements  are  wanting  in  the  verse  of  self-taught 
men,  —  not  vital  qualities,  because  those  are  pre 
supposed  by  the  poet's  inspiration,  but  the  stores  of 
allusion,  the  exterior  finish,  the  perfection  of  metre, 
and  the  silent  exclusion  of  the  superfluous.  The 
laws  of  English  verse  are  elastic  and  lax,  and  a  good 
ear  is  generally  a  sufficient  guide ;  but  the  last  re 
finements  in  measure,  accent,  assonance,  and  form 
are  knoAvn  only  to  the  patient  students  of  the 
great  masters  in  many  tongues.  Undoubtedly, 
scholars  lay  too  much  stress  upon  pharisaic  atten 
tion  to  externals.  For  them  the  neglect  of  any 
minor  canon  is  almost  as  fatal  as  the  want  of 
creative  force.  Nothing  less  than  the  perfection 
of  art  satisfies  them.  But  the  current  poetry  of 
our  time  is  far  more  distinguished  for  verbal  nicety 
than  genuine  inspiration.  Yerse  in  which  the 
elaborate  finish  is  apparent  is  apt  to  give  an  im 
pression  of  tameness  ;  so  much  so,  that  those  who 
know  the  real  power  of  poetry  are  willing  to  forgive 


Characteristic*  of  Whit  tiers  V<  347 

slight  defects  in  works  that  show  their  liiirli  oritrin. 
The  most  brilliant  passages  of  Burns,  or  of  Shake 
speare,  even,  would  scarcely  get  through  the  hands 
of  our  fastidious  editors  without  being  shorn  of 
their  characteristic  phrases  and  epithets.  We  are 
too  silken-line  to  tolerate  homespun  and  natural 
style,  or  words  with  blood  in  them.  Every  word 
that  would  give  the  pleasing  shock  of  originality, 
of  hitherto  unsuggested  force,  or  the  complex  sur 
prises  of  humor,  is  marked  dele.  Writers  go  through 
the  manual  and  drill  at  the  editorial  command,  and 
their  great  successes  are  in  composing  by  strata 
gem,  as  Pope's  fine  ladies  drank  tea.  The  reign 
of  rhetoricians  and  purists  is  the  sure  indication  of 
decadence.  "  It  is  against  rule,"  said  the  critics  to 
Beethoven.  "  Who  made  the  rule  ? "  "  The  mas 
ters  before  us."  "  Well,  I  am  a  master  ;  /  make 
the  rule."  He  made  the  rule,  and  the  critics  were 
referred  to  the  next  generation. 

In  letters,  as  in  music  and  art,  great  men  origi 
nate  ideas  and  forms  ;  then  come  critics  with  the, 
apparatus  of  their  craft,  and  would  fain  have  us 
believe  themselves  superior  to  the  men  of  genius 
whom  they  attempt  to  measure  and  weigh. 

The  estimate  by  Lowell  in  the  "  Fable  for  Crit 
ics,"  thirty-live  years  ago,  is  a  blending  of  gener 
ous  praise  and  acute  criticism.  The  tribute  to 


348  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Whittier's  character  and  works  has  great  force, 
coming  from  a  poet  of  high  rank,  and  all  the  more 
that  the  per  contra  of  the  account  is  so  rigidly 
stated.  No  one  has  since  added  much  to  the 
eulogy,  and  the  keenest  critic  has  found  all  his  ob 
jections  anticipated.  No  passage  in  that  brilliant 
satire  has  been  more  frequently  quoted ;  most 
readers  of  poetry  know  it  by  heart ;  but  it  appears 
necessary  here  to  reproduce  the  more  important 
points  of  the  judgment :  — 

"  There  is  Whittier,  whose  swelling  and  vehement  heart 
Strains  the  strait-breasted  drab  of  the  Quaker  apart, 
And  reveals  the  live  Man,  still  supreme  and  erect, 
Underneath  the  bemummying  wrappers  of  sect ; 
There  was  ne'er  a  man  born  who  had  more  of  the  swing 
Of  the  true  lyric  bard  and  all  that  kind  of  thing ; 
And  his  failures  arise  (though  perhaps  he  don't  know  it) 
From  the  very  same  cause  that  has  made  him  a  poet,  — 
A  fervor  of  mind  which  knows  no  separation 
'Twixt  simple  excitement  and  pure  inspiration. 

Let  his  mind  once  get  head  in  its  favorite  direction, 

And  the  torrent  of  verse  bursts  the  dams  of  reflection, 

While,  borne  with  the  rush  of  the  metre  along, 

The  poet  may  chance  to  go  right  or  go  wrong, 

Content  with  the  whirl  and  delirium  of  song ; 

Then  his  grammar  's  not  always  correct,  nor  his  rhymes, 

And  he  's  prone  to  repeat  his  own  lyrics  sometimes,  — 

Not  his  best,  though,  for  those  are  struck  off  at  white-heats, 

When  the  heart  in  his  breast  like  a  trip-hammer  beats, 

And  can  ne'er  be  repeated  again  any  more 

Than  they  could  have  been  carefully  plotted  before." 


Characteristics  of  WhiHiers  Verse.       349 

Another  paragraph  lias  a  hold,  prophetic  tour, 
which  at  tho  time  it  was  written  was  wonderful 
to  some,  and  absurd  to  most:  — 

"I  need  not  to  name  them,  already  for  c:i< -h 
I  see  History  preparing  the  statue  and  niche." 

Sumner's  stately  form  is  already  represented  in 
bronze ;  the  statues  of  Theodore  Parker  and  Gar 
rison  are  soon  to  be  set  up;  and  no  one  can  doubt, 
that  in  due  time  similar  memorials  of  Whittier, 
Phillips,  and  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe  are  to  follow. 

When  Lowell's  "Fable"  was  published,  neither 
he,  nor  any  of  the  great  abolitionists  whom  he  cele 
brated,  could  have  addressed  a  public  meeting  with 
out  risk  of  insult  or  violence.  The  tardy  popular 
reparation  is  like  that  foretold  in  another  grand 
poem  of  Lowell's,  wherein  we  see 

"  The  hooting  mob  of  yesterday  in  silent  awe  return 
To  gather  up  the  scattered  ashes  into  History's  golden  urn." 

We  must  return  to  the  critical  objections,  but 
shall  not  consider  them  in  any  formal  order. 

It  is  proper  to  state  that  no  critic  has  a  clearer 
sense  of  limitations  in  these  poems  than  has  Whit- 
tier  himself.  In  fact,  his  estimate  of  their  value; 
is  quite  below  that  of  careful  judges  among  his 
friends.  He  would  not  dispute  the  per  contra  of 
Lowell's  statement,  but  admit  the  charge  of  false 


350  John  Grccnleaf  Whittier. 

rhymes,  repeated  lyrics,  and  mistaken  inspiration. 
He  has  been  known  to  indulge  in  sarcasms  upon 
his  own  early  works,  such  as  friends  would  hesi 
tate  to  repeat.  For  instance,  he  has  stigmatized 
"  Mogg  Megone  "  as  a  "  big  Injun  strutting  about 
in  Walter  Scott's  plaid,"  which  is  the  fact  in  a 
nut-shell. 

But  in  general  it  may  be  said  that  the  verse  of 
Whittier  satisfies  all  reasonable  demands  as  to 
measure  and  melody.  His  nature  is  buoyant  and 
his  diction  is  copious ;  and  the  exuberant  feeling 
and  natural  energy  give  his  lines  an  elastic  move 
ment  that  carries  the  reader  on,  as  upon  waves  that 
swell  and  never  submerge.  The  nicest  results  of 
art  we  find  less  frequently ;  although  some  poens 
may  be  named,  so  near  perfection  that  higher  finish 
could  scarcely  be  desired. 

His  rhymes  are  never  a  clog  to  his  thought ;  they 
never  lead  him  astray ;  they  are  generally  facile 
and  lucky,  without  being  always  correct.  In  this 
respect  he  resembles  Burns,  who  was  indifferent 
to  the  perfect  wedding  of  terminations  provided  he 
could  make  an  effective  stroke. 

"  Whene'er  my  Muse  does  on  me  glance, 
I  jingle  at  her." 

We  cannot  but  regret  the  occasional  imperfect 
rhymes  and  accents  of  Whittier,  but  they  are  not 


Cliaracteristics  of  Whilticrs  Verse.       3  5  i 

numerous  enough  to  impair  the  general  effect. 
There  is  no  poet  without  faults  ;  and,  if  it  must 
be  so,  it  is  better  that  they  should  exist  in  details, 
rather  than  detract  from  the  spirit  and  sense  of 
completeness. 

It  was  believed  that  in  the  ancient  sacrifices 
the  gods  had  the  supreme  pleasure  of  the  odors, 
while  the  enjoyment  of  the  substantial  viands  was 
left  to  mortals.  In  certain  poems  of  a  high  order 
there  is  a  similar  distinction  between  the  force 
and  beauty  open  to  every  reader  and  the  spiritual 
essence  appreciated  by  few.  This  essence  consists 
of  subtile  suggestions,  and  the  aroma  of  allusion 
and  learning.  To  elucidate  this  point  would  re 
quire  more  time  than  can  be  given  in  a  work  of 
this  kind.  The  poets  especially  distinguished  for 
learning  are  not  numerous,  and,  excepting  Milton 
and  Tennyson,  they  are  not  among  the  great.  In 
a  song,  which  is  an  outburst  of  feeling,  there  is 
no  room  for  a  classic  reminiscence ;  the  least 
hint  of  scholasticism  would  be  fatal.  In  a  ballad, 
simplicity  is  the  one  unalterable  quality.  But  in 
an  epic,  like  "  Paradise  Lost,"  the  utmost  wealth 
of  historical  allusion  is  not  too  much.  The  lines 
of  Milton,  as  has  been  often  said,  are  rich  with 
the  spoils  of  every  language  and  time. 

To   the   character  of   a  learned   poet   Whittier 


352  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

would  make  no  claim.  His  reading  has  beeli  ex 
tensive  and  varied,  and  a  collection  of  topics  from 
his  poems  would  be  found  large  and  interesting ; 
but  we  do  not  often  see  in  his  verse  the  fusion 
of  rare  or  recondite  elements.  One  Book  alone 
he  has  profoundly  studied,  and  his  references  to 
its  sublime  lessons  are  always  apposite  and  often 
powerful. 

In  the  subtile  quality  of  suggestion  Whittier 
shows  his  birthright  as  poet.  This  is  the  quality 
which  forever  separates  poetry  from  prose.  As  in 
harmonies  a  delicate  ear  catches  sympathetic  oc 
taves  and  over-tones,  so  in  true  poetry  the  unex 
pressed  suggestion  is  quite  beyond  the  actual  words. 
Hints  are  in  the  air  of  something  finer  than  lan 
guage  can  depict.  Tones  linger  and  tremble  long 
after  the  first  and  strong  vibration  has  ceased. 

In  Whittier' s  youth  the  accepted  American  poets 
were  prone  to  the  choice  of  Scriptural  scenes  and 
subjects.  The  early  poems  of  Willis  will  be  remem 
bered  ;  also  Lowell's  stinging  couplet  in  reference 
to  them  :  — 

"  And  he  ought  to  let  Scripture  alone  ;  't  is  self-slaughter, 
For  nobody  likes  inspiration-and-water." 

Hillhouse,  Brainard,  Mrs.  Sigourney,  Pierpont  with 
his  "  Airs  of  Palestine,"  Eliza  Townsend,  and 
others  had  set  the  example  which  Whittier  fol- 


CJutraderistics  of  Whit  tiers  Verse.       353 

lowed.  His  first  printed  poem  is  a  versification 
of  a  passage  from  the  Old  Testament.  For  years 
afterward  hf  toiled  over  similar  scenes,  as  the 
ivadrr  has  observed.  Most  of  them  have  been 
qnirtly  dropped, but  there  remain  a  number,  —  such 
as  "  The  Crucifixion,"  "  The  Cities  of  the  Plain," 
"The  Wife  of  Manoah,"  "The  Star  of  Bethle 
hem," —  which  show  the  original  influence  and 
tendency. 

This  direction,  strengthened  by  his  religious  train 
ing,  resulted  in  his  giving  a  formal  moral  to  the 
ending  of  poems  which  did  not  especially  require 
one.  This  has  been  a  fault  from  which  few  poets 
have  been  free.  Many  of  Longfellow's  most  noted 
poems  would  be  improved  by  the  omission  of  their 
final  stanzas.  It  has  been  the  common  but  erro 
neous  opinion  that,  as  the  aim  of  all  poetry  should 
be  to  elevate  the  moral  nature,  a  poem  could  not 
be  complete  without  a  tag,  like  the  conclusion  of 
a  sermon.  Religious  readers  may  find  it  hard  to 
accept  the  canon,  and  devout  poets  even  may  rebel 
and  disregard  it,  but  it  is  none  the  less  true  that 
the  only  effective  lesson  of  a  poem  is  in  its  spirit 
and  suggestion,  and  that  the  most  epigrammatic 
ethical  application,  at  the  close,  is  an  artistic  mis 
take.  Nothing  is  sounder  than  the  advice  of  a  poet 
often  quoted :  - 

23 


354  J°h}l  G-reenleaf  Whiitier. 

"  Put  all  your  beauty  in  your  rhymes, 
Your  morals  in  your  living." 

We  have  mentioned  "  the  exclusion  of  the  superflu 
ous  "  as  one  of  the  necessities  of  art.  The  couplets 
of  Story  will  be  recalled  to  the  reader :  — 

"  Strive  not  to  say  the  whole !  the  Poet  in  his  art 
Must  intimate  the  whole,  and  say  the  smallest  part. 

"  The  young  moon's  silver  arc  her  perfect  circle  tells, 
The  limitless  within  Art's  bounded  outline  dwells. 

"  Of  every  noble  work  the  silent  part  is  best, 
Of  all  expression  that  which  cannot  be  expressed." 

Nothing  tests  the  poet's  self-discipline  like  an  ad 
herence  to  this  Spartan  rule.  In  the  heat  of  com 
position  there  is  a  fulness  of  thought  and  emotion, 
and  in  the  struggle  to  express  all  the  thronging 
conceptions  the  molten  stream  overruns  the  mould. 
There  is  even  a  tendency  to  repetition  in  slightly 
varying  phrases,  —  or  perhaps  to  ill-judged  discur- 
sions,  leading  away  from  the  strict  line  of  thought, 
—  or,  more  rarely,  the  temptation  to  plunge  into 
metaphysics,  from  which  no  poet  ever  emerged 
without  mental  asphyxia. 

If  the  poems  of  Whittier,  meaning  those  now 
recognized  and  collected  in  his  volumes,  could  be 
seen  as  originally  written  with  a  view  to  compari 
son  with  their  present  forms,  readers  would  recog 
nize  with  astonishment  the  sharp  and  resolute 


Chamctcmtics  of  Whit  Hers  Verse.       355 

pruning  to  which  they  have  been  subjected.  Sonic 
poets,  belicviiiii  in  the  plenary  inspiration  of  their 
own  works,  have  scrupulously  printed  every  line. 
A  >tern  self-examination  and  a  rigid  self-criticism 
on  the  part  of  Wordsworth  would  have  eliminated 
two  fifths  of  his  lines,  with  manifest  advantage  to 
the  remainder,  and  with  a  -rent  heightening  of  his 
fame.  Look  at  the  wretched  shreds  and  patches 
of  verse  gathered  by  ill-judging  editors  of  Hcrrick, 
Swift,  Byron,  and  many  others.  Far  better  is  the 
wise  exclusion  of  the  superfluous  as  it  has  been 
understood  and  practised  by  Whittier. 

There  is,  however,  a  noted  exception  in  his  anti- 
slavery  poems,  which  we  must  consider.  If  Garri 
son,  when  he  first  announced  the  moral  basis  of  his 
enterprise,  had  stopped  there  and  never  repeated  it, 
the  South  might  have  been  under  the  black  shadow 
to  this  day.  Garrison  knew  that  the  mere  statement 
of  eternal  principles  was  not  enough ;  it  was  neces 
sary  to  reason,  to  re-state,  to  enforce  by  analogy,  to 
illustrate  by  historical  examples,  to  arouse  feelings 
and  sympathies,  to  appeal  to  Divine  authority,  - 
in  short,  to  use  the  whole  armory  of  argument  and 
pursuasion  in  order  to  arouse  the  conscience  and 
enlighten  the  moral  perceptions  of  his  countrymen. 
Whittier,  as  the  poet  of  the  same  great  cause,  i«  h 
it  necessary  to  turn  every  form  of  cogency  into 


356  John  Grcenleaf  Whittier. 

verse.  The  limits  were  narrow ;  he  had  simply  to 
say  all  men  are  born  free,  and  slavery  is  an  unjust, 
unwise,  and  dangerous  infringement  of  an  eternal 
law.  There  was  nothing  more.  Within  those 
narrow  limits,  for  years,  he  pleaded  for  the  slave 
and  denounced  his  oppressor.  Considering  the 
burden  upon  his  soul,  we  must  admire  the  invin 
cible  spirit  with  which  he  attacked  the  great  crime 
of  the  century,  and  still  more  wonder  at  the  ever 
new  forms  in  which  his  pleadings  and  denunciations 
were  clothed. 

Whittier  "repeated  his  lyrics"  not  as  a  poet, 
but  as  an  apostle,  —  as  the  first  apostles  repeated 
their  messages.  All  his  powers  were  devoted  to 
the  cause ;  and  his  reputation  as  a  poet,  and  all  his 
other  belongings  and  advantages,  were  as  nothing 
to  him  if  he  could  win  converts. 

The  reader  will  not  fail  to  observe  that  it  has  not 
been  the  purpose  of  the  writer  in  any  part  of  this 
work  to  make  what  is  termed  a  critical  study.  The 
first  and  chief  object  has  been  to  present  Whittier 
as  a  man,  and  to  show  his  place  and  his  work  in 
the  world ;  next  to  notice  the  origin  and  the  pro 
gress  of  his  literary  labors,  especially  his  poems ; 
and  then  to  give  such  illustrations  of  his  writings 
'as  may  help  the  general  reader  to  a  due  compre 
hension  of  them.  In  carrying  out  this  plan  certain 


Cluiractcristics  of  Whittiers  Verse.       357 

estimates  or  judgments  of  greater  or  less  are  in 
evitable.  But  it  has  been  the  desire  chiefly  to 
illuminate  the  separate  works  mentioned,  calling 
attention  to  substantial  merits  and  lively  graces, 
rather  than  searching  for  defects.  The  observant 
reader  will  still  see  something  of  the  limitations ; 
for  if  the  writer  is  fortunate  in  his  choice  of  phrases, 
the  terms  of  praise  will  at  least  indicate  negatively 
what  may  appear  to  be  wanting. 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  critical  studies  of  liv 
ing  men,  or  of  those  recently  deceased,  can  have  any 
real  value.  What  we  call  the  spirit  of  the  age  en 
folds  and  surrounds  us  all  like  an  atmosphere,  and 
no  solid  and  enduring  judgment  of  any  poet  can  be 
made  until  such  time  as  the  age  itself,  with  its  com 
plex  ideas,  feelings,  and  tendencies,  can  be  calmly 
reviewed. 

But  there  are  not  wanting  in  our  time,  as  in  the 
centuries  before,  the  kind  of  critics  to  whom  the 
pen  is  both  scalpel  and  stiletto.  Criticism,  in  their 
view,  is  first  the  search  for  moles  and  deformities  ; 
next, the  merciless  dissection  of  the  structure ;  lastly, 
the  exhibition  of  an  analysis  in  the  shape  of  a  chemi 
cal  formula.  The  result  is  something  like  that 
attained  by  younger  analysts  in  crushing  a  butter 
fly  to  a  paste ;  the  beauty  of  motion  and  splendor 
of  color  are  gone,  and  in  place  of  a  bright  and  airy 


358  John  Grcenlcaf  Whittier. 

being,  hovering  over  flowers,  there  remains  in  the 
hand  something  shapeless  and  disgusting.  Many 
a  poem  is  served  thus,  and  the  triumphant  "  critic  " 
exhibits  the -sorry  remains  as  if  he  had  done  a 
great  feat. 

Lord  Byron  said  :  — 

"  The  lawyer  and  the  critic  but  behold 
The  baser  sides  of  literature  and  life." 

This  is  true  of  the  destructive  critic,  and  it  should 
lead  us  to  admire  rather  the  canon  of  Caiiyle,  which 
is  (in  substance)  to  endeavor  to  place  ourselves  in 
sympathy  with  the  subject  and  to  point  out  first  of 
all  its  merits. 

In  the  course  of  the  previous  comments  many 
poems  have  been  transiently  presented  ;  but  it  is 
desirable  now,  even  at  the  risk  of  repetition,  to 
mention  some  distinguishing  features  of  Whittier' s 
work,  and  cite  a  few  examples. 

First  of  all,  he  may  be  considered  an  artist  in  land 
scape.  The  forms  and  colors  of  nature  have  made 
vivid  and  lasting  impressions  upon  his  mind ;  and 
the  scenery,  or  background,  of  his  compositions 
is  always  faithful,  strong,  and  impressive.  There 
could  be  selected  a  gallery  of  his  pictures,  of  moun 
tains,  lakes,  rivers,  and  sea,  that  would  be  remark 
able  among  the  best  ever  drawn.  The  limits  are 
coequal  with  his  personal  experience,  and  they  em- 


Characteristics  of  Whitlicrs  Verse.       359 

brace  all  the  phases  to  be  met  with  in  the  White 
Mountain  region, the  Merrimac  valley, the  northern 
lakes,  and  the  sea-coast  from  Newburyport  to  Casco 
I  Jay.  But  he  has  not  dealt  alone  with  the  grander 
features :  the  smaller  valleys  and  streams,  the 
rounded  hills,  the  various  wild  flowers,  the  green 
masses  of  summer  foliage,  and  the  gay  colors  of 
autumn  have  likewise  employed  his  pencil ;  so  that 
the  ivadrr  who  is  familiar  with  the  subjects  has  a 
perpetual  pleasure  in  his  delineations.  In  giving 
instances,  the  difficulty  lies  in  the  abundance  of 
materials.1 

Without  pausing  to  discriminate  strictly  between 
imagination  and  fancy,  we  may  instance  some  pas 
sages  in  which  the  grandeur  of  nature  is  fitly 
imaged  in  the  grandeur  of  phrase.  Observe  these 
stanzas  from  "  Evening  by  the  Lakeside  :  "  — 

"Yon  mountain's  side  is  black  with  night, 

While,  broad-orbed,  o'er  its  gleaming  crown 
The  moon,  slow-rounding  into  sight, 
On  the  hushed  inland  sea  looks  down. 


1  Mogg  Megone,  1836  ;  The  Bridal  of  Pennacook,  1845  ;  The 
Lakeside,  1849  ;  The  Hill-Top,  1850  ;  Summer  by  the  Lak.  >!,],, 
1853  ;  The  Ranger  (date  unknown)  ;  The  Last  Walk  in  Autumn, 
1857  ;  Our  River,  1861  ;  Mountain  Pictures,  1862  ;  The  Countess, 
1863  ;  The  Grave  by  the  Lake,  1865  ;  The  Tent  on  the  Beach, 
1867  ;  Among  the  Hills,  1868  ;  The  Sea  Dream,  1875.  These  are 
the  chief  in  this  class  ;  yet  scattered  through  all  the  volumes  are 
many  exquisite  pictures,  subordinate  to  the  leading  themes. 


360  John  Greenleaf  Whitticr. 

"  How  far  and  strange  the  mountains  seem, 
Dim-looming  through  the  pale  still  light ! 
The  vague,  vast  grouping  of  a  dream, 
They  stretch  into  the  solemn  night. 

"  Fair  scenes  !  whereto  the  Day  and  Night 

Make  rival  love,  I  leave  ye  soon, 
What  time  before  the  eastern  light 
The  pale  ghost  of  the  setting  moon 

Shall  hide  behind  yon  rocky  spines, 

And  the  young  archer,  Morn,  shall  break 

His  arrows  on  the  mountain  pines, 
And,  golden-sandalled,  walk  the  lake  ! 

"  O,  watched  by  Silence  and  the  Night, 

And  folded  in  the  strong  embrace 
Of  the  great  mountains,  with  the  light 
Of  the  sweet  heavens  upon  thy  face, 

"  Lake  of  the  Northland  !  keep  thy  dower 

Of  beauty  still,  and  while  above 
Thy  solemn  mountains  speak  of  power, 
Be  thou  the  mirror  of  God's  love." 

In  "  Tauler,"  a  poem  of  remarkable  spiritual  in 
sight,  there  is  a  picture  of  the  cathedral  of  Stras- 
burg,  so  vivid  that  the  majestic  structure  seems 
visibly  rising  before  us  as  we  read :  — 

"  He  saw,  far  down  the  street 
A  mighty  shadow  break  the  light  of  noon, 
Which  tracing  backward  till  its  airy  lines 
Hardened  to  stony  plinths,  he  raised  his  eyes 


Characteristics  of  W hit  tin's  Verse.       361 

O'er  broad  facade  and  lofty  pediment, 

O'er  architrave  and  frie/e  and  sainted  niche, 

Up  the  stom-  laee-work  chiselled  by  the  \\  i-e 

Erwin  of  Steinbach,  di/./ily  up  to  where 

In  the  noon-brightness  the  great  Minster's  tower, 

Jewelled  with  sunbeams  on  its  mural  crown, 

Rose  like  a  visible  prayer." 

We  should  quote  a  few  stanzas  from  "  The  Last 
Walk  in  Autumn,"  —  a  poem  equal  in  many  re 
spects  to  the  best  of  our  time.  The  scene  is  in 
Amesbury,  partly  from  Powow  Hill :  — 

"  O'er  the  bare  woods,  whose  outstretched  hands 

Plead  with  the  leaden  heavens  in  vain, 
I  see,  beyond  the  valley  lands, 

The  sea's  long  level  dim  with  rain. 

"  Along  the  river's  summer  walk 

The  withered  tufts  of  asters  nod ; 
And  trembles  on  its  arid  stalk 

The  hoar  plume  of  the  golden-rod. 
And  on  a  ground  of  sombre  fir, 
And  azure-studded  juniper, 
The  silver  birch  its  buds  of  purple  shows, 
And  scarlet  berries  tell  where  bloomed  the  sweet  wild  rose. 

"  I  know  not  how,  in  other  lands,  * 

The  changing  seasons  come  and  go  ; 
What  splendors  fall  on  Syrian  sands, 

What  purple  lights  on  Alpine  snow  ! 
Nor  how  the  pomp  of  sunrise  waits 
On  Venire  at  her  watery  irates; 
A  dream  alone  to  me  is  Arno's  vale. 
And  the  Alhambra's halls  are  but  a  tnm-ller's  tale. 


362  John  Grcenlcaf  Whittier. 

"  Yet,  on  life's  current,  he  who  drifts 

Is  one  with  him  who  rows  or  sails ; 
And  he  who  wanders  widest  lifts 

No  more  of  beauty's  jealous  veils 
Than  he  who  from  his  doorway  sees 
The  miracle  of  flowers  and  trees, 
Feels  the  warm  Orient  in  the  noonday  air, 
And  from  cloud-minarets  hears  the  sunset  call  to  prayer ! 

"  The  eye  may  well  be  glad  that  looks 

Where  Pharpar's  fountains  rise  and  fall, 
But  he  who  sees  his  native  brooks 

Laugh  in  the  sun,  has  seen  them  all. 
The  marble  palaces  of  Ind 
Rise  round  him  in  the  snow  and  wind; 
From  his  lone  sweetbrier  Persian  Hafiz  smiles, 
And  Rome's  cathedral  awe  is  in  his  woodland  aisles." 

The  temptation  to  continue  is  strong,  for  the  inter 
est  is  sustained ;  the  lines  sparkle  with  light  and 
are  warm  with  feeling  ;  but  enough  has  been  quoted 
from  this  poem  for  the  brief  space  allotted. 

In  the  search  for  picturesque  passages  a  great 
number  could  be  gathered  from  "  Snow  Bound ;  " 
but  they  are  seldom  separable  without  loss  ;  and, 
as  that  poem  is  better  known,  probably,  than  any 
in  the  collection,  we  shall  quote  only  the  delightful 
image  with  which  it  closes  :  — 

"  And  thanks  untraced  to  lips  unknown 
Shall  greet  me  like  the  odors  blown 
From  unseen  meadows  newlv  mown, 


Characteristics  of  WhillieSs  Verse.      363 

Or  lilies  lloatinir  in  some  pond, 
Wood-f ringed,  tin-  wavside  Lra/e  heyond  ; 
The  traveller  owns  the  ^rateful  M-MM« 
Of  sweetness  near,  he  knows  not  whence. 
Ami,  jiaiisiiiir.  takes  with  forehead  hare 
Tlie  henedirtion  of  the  air." 

In  his  tributes  to  the  eminent  men  and  women 
of  his  day,  after  making  allowance  for  the  friendly 
warmth  of  color,  we  observe  a  fine  discrimination 
of  character,  and  the  power  of  placing  mental  and 
moral  traits  in  high  relief.  The  two  poems  upon 
Sunnier  are  eminent  specimens  of  careful  study  and 
strong  portraiture.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the 
sketch  of  Dr.  Howe,  of  Mrs.  Avis  Kcene,  of  John 
Randolph,  of  Webster  in  "  The  Lost  Occasion,"  — 
of  Fields  and  Taylor,  —  and  still  more  of  the 
touching  and  matchless  eulogy  of  Burns.  The  con 
cluding  stanzas  of  the  last-named  poem  are  so  full 
of  tenderness,  shadowed  by  inevitable  regret,— 
so  fervent  in  the  appreciation  of  genius,  and  so 
throbbing  with  manly  love,  that  it  is  hard  for  a 
man  of  sensibility  to  repeat  them  without  tears. 

All  true  poetry  is  in  a  sense  autobiographic,  for 
the  poet  must  use  his  own  feelings  and  experiences 
as  the  staple  of  his  verse;  but  there  are  many  of 
Whittier's  which  have  a  peculiar  interest  on  account 
of  the  utter  frankness  of  their  confidences.  Who 
ever  will  read  these  personal  poems  with  attention 


364  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

and  thought  will  have  a  better  idea  of  the  man 
than  the  most  elaborate  biography  could  give. 
Among  the  earliest  is  the  one  entitled  "  Lines 
written  in  the  Book  of  a  Friend : "  — 

"  On  page  of  thine  I  cannot  trace 
The  cold  and  heartless  commonplace.'* 

This  was  written  before  1843,  when  the  anti-slavery 
cause  engaged  his  best  efforts,  and  relates  with 
touching  simplicity  his  call  to  duty  and  the  con 
sequences. 

In  the  poem  "  My  Namesake"  (written  in  1857), 
from  which  a  few  stanzas  have  been  already  quoted, 
he  gives  an  account  of  himself,  one  that  cannot  be 
abridged.  The  reader  must  summarize  for  himself, 
but  we  will  present  one  or  two  stanzas  :  — 

"  In  him  the  grave  and  playful  mixed, 
And  wisdom  held  with  folly  truce, 
And  Nature  compromised  betwixt 
Good  fellow  and  recluse. 

"  111  served  his  tides  of  feeling  strong 
To  turn  the  common  mills  of  use ; 
And,  over  restless  wings  of  song 
His  birthright  garb  hung  loose  I 

"  His  eye  was  beauty's  powerless  slave, 

And  his  the  ear  which  discord  pains  ; 
Few  guessed  beneath  his  aspect  grave 
What  passions  strove  in  chains." 


Characteristics  of  Wltltlicrs  Verse.       365 

"  My  Psalm,"  written  in  1859,  is  of  a  similar  char 
acter,  but  its  burden  is  more  purely  religious.  "  My 
IJirtlnhiy,"  written  in  1871, is  tender  and  beautiful  ; 
but  worldly-minded  readers  will  doubtless  smile 
to  observe  that  he  fears  his  long-delayed  but  un 
sought  popularity  may  weaken  his  moral  fibre  :  — 

"  The  bark  by  tempest  vainly  tossed 

May  founder  in  the  calm, 
And  he  who  braved  the  polar  frost 
Faint  by  the  isles  of  balm." 

"  Better  than  self-indulgent  years 

The  outflung  heart  of  youth, 
Than  pleasant  songs  in  idle  ears 
The  tumult  of  the  truth." 

The  religious  element  in  Whitticr's  poems  is 
something  vital  and  inseparable.  The  supremacy 
of  moral  ideas  is  indeed  inculcated  by  almost  all 
great  poets,  and  at  no  time  more  than  in  the  pres 
ent.  And  in  almost  all  modern  verse  the  filial 
relation  of  man  to  his  Creator,  and  the  immanence 
of  the  Spirit  in  the  human  heart,  are  at  least  tacitly 
recognized.  The  leading  poets  of  America  are,  one 
and  all,  reverent  in  feeling  and  tone.  But  it  is 
quite  evident  that  Whittier  alone  is  religious  in  a 
high  and  inward  sense. 

The  reader's  attention  was  called  to  this  in  com 
ments  upon  "The  Eternal  Goodness"  and  poems 


366  John  Greenlcaf  W hit-tier. 

in  a  similar  holy  strain.  We  see  that  in  such 
verses  there  is  not  simply  the  decorous  homage  of 
the  lips,  but  the  strong  feeling  of  communion  with 
God,  deep  as  the  sources  of  being,  high  as  the  as 
pirations  of  the  soul,  lasting  as  eternity.  These  are 
utterances  which  no  art  can  simulate,  which  carry 
irresistible  conviction,  and  are  immortally  classic 
in  their  sphere.  Whatever  gifts  and  graces  belong 
by  right  to  Whittier,  it  is  by  his  expression  of  re 
ligious  ideas  that  he  has  the  place  of  honor. 

It  may  appear  unnecessary  to  add  that  the  idea 
of  God  is  never  associated  in  his  verse  with  images 
of  terror ;  it  is  the  God  of  Love,  the  Eternal  Good 
ness,  that  he  adores.  Nor  is  there  any  hint  of  theo- 
logic  dogmas,  nor  of  stated  observances ;  it  is  the 
idea  of  right  living  and  holy  thinking  without  the 
hedges  of  human  codes,  —  of  actual  personal  com 
munion  without  rigid  forms  of  words.  Compare 
these  soul-full  poems  with  the  icy  edifice  of  Pope's 
Universal  Prayer,  —  a  temple  without  a  humble 
worshipper,  and  with  only  the  shadowy  eidolon  of 
a  God! 

A  lover  of  nature,  an  artist  in  landscape,  a 
chivalrous  philanthropist,  —  pouring  out  his  whole 
heart  in  lyrics  for  the  poor  and  oppressed,  —  and  a 
psalmist  under  a  Divine  call, — he  who  unites  these 


<>f  Wltitlicr*    \\rsc.       367 

qualities  and  functions  has  a  riirht  to  the  love  and 
admiration  of  mankind.  IJut  there  arc  other  things 
to  be  considered,  such  as  ideality,  imagination  in  a 
high  and  restricted  sense,  and  philosophy.  The 
nature  of  Whittier's  mind  is  primarily  realistic;  — 
that  is,  his  feet  are  planted  on  the  ground,  and  he  has 
sung  mostly  of  what  has  been  visible  to  his  mortal 
eyes.  "Snow  Bound,"  one  of  the  most  popular  of 
his  poems,  is  a  specimen  of  intense  realism.  And 
yet  who  has  not  felt  in  reading  its  simple  lines 
strong  suggestions  of  the  leyond?  Pictures  arise  in 
mind  wholly  above  the  level  of  the  farm.  To  alter 
a  line  of  Lowell, — 

"  He  rings  commonplace  things  with  mystical  hues." 

The  realism  of  Whittier  does  not  generally  bound 
and  determine  the  treatment  of  his  theme.  We  are 
conscious  of  an  increasing  glow,  and  as  image  suc 
ceeds  image,  the  course  of  thought  rises  and  tends 
more  towards  an  ideal  realm,  until  at  length  the 
actual  landscape  or  story  is  left  far  below,  and  the 
poet  and  reader  are  in  the  midst  of 

"  The  light  that  never  was,  on  sea  or  land." 

Imagination  is  the  highest  attribute,  as  all  admit. 
When  we  think  of  the  stupendous  edifice  of  "  Para 
dise  Lost,"  or  of  the  scenes  and  ever-living  charac 
ters  of  Shakespeare,  the  works  of  other  poet>  seem 


368  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

puny;  but  the  field  of  poetry  is  broad,  and  the 
elements  of  poetic  power  are  many ;  and  there  are 
other  and  lesser  poets  from  whom  we  receive  intel 
lectual  pleasure  as  well  as  moral  strength.  No 
poet,  however,  can  be  considered  great  in  whom 
the  faculty  of  imagination  is  wanting  or  feeble. 
There  are  strokes  in  Byron  as  startling  as  in  the 
masters.  Coleridge  had  the  faculty ;  so  had  Words 
worth,  Keats,  and  Shelley.  Tennyson,  too,  often 
shows  it  in  some  vigorous  line.  He  sees  an  eagle 
poised  at  an  airy  height.  A  common  observer 
would  mention,  perhaps,  that  the  majestic  bird 
seemed  a  mere  dot  in  the  ether ;  but  Tennyson  puts 
himself  in  the  eagle's  place,  and  he  measures  the 
height  thus :  — 

"  The  wrinkled  sea  beneath  him  crawls." 

Whatever  definitions  may  be  ventured,  we  know 
this,  that  imagination  is  shown  by  putting  one's  self 
in  the  place ;  as  Shakespeare  lived  in  the  persons 
he  had  created. 

In  the  poems  of  Whittier  there  are  many  traces 
of  this  high  quality.  It  is  less  condensed  into  ada 
mantine  phrases,  but  its  presence  is  often  strongly 
felt.  The  poems  entitled  "  Follen,"  "  Ezekiel," 
"  My  Triumph,"  and  many  others  convey  the  im 
pression  of  imaginative  power.  "  The  Henchman," 
though  upon  a  hackneyed  theme,  is  a  pure  piece  of 


Characteristic*  of  Whitficrs  Verse.      369 


imagination;   so  arc  certain  stanzas  in  u 

by  the  Lakeside,"  —  as,  for  instance,  where  the  sun 

is  imaged  as  the  far-darting  Apollo  :  - 

"  And  the  young  an  her.  M<»rn.  shall  break 
His  arrows  mi  tin-  mountain  pines, 

And,  golden-sandalled,  walk  tin-  lake!" 

The  reader  will  see,  of  course,  that  the  new  ima-jv 
is  in  the  last  line. 

The  conclusion  of  "Snow  Bound"  is  delicately 
imaginative,  and  certain  stanzas  on  Sumner  are 
strongly  so. 

On  the  other  hand,  as  has  been  before  intimated, 
there  arc  prosaic  places,  especially  in  poems  of  a 
moral  character,  —  fragments  of  excellent  good 
sense  and  high  purpose,  but  not  distinguishable, 
except  in  form,  from  prose.  Many  of  these  the  poet 
would  have  altered  or  cancelled  in  later  days,  ex 
cept  that  they  had  become  public  property  by  lapse 
of  time.  That  he  has  often  chosen  homely  themes 
we  cannot  consider  a  serious  fault.  He  has  not 
been  a  poet  for  stately  occasions  only,  but  the  cele 
brant  of  home  affections  and  rural  life. 

Philosophy  may  stand  in  poetry  for  the  consider 
ation  of  the  problems  of  being,  mind,  origin,  and 
destiny.  The  fine-spun  distinctions  of  metaphysics, 
the  obscure  phrases  used  in  the  so-called  science, 
and  the  utter  hopelessness  of  its  aims,  are  too  well 

24 


370  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

known."  The  value  of  such  discussions  has  been 
discredited  by  most  intellectual  men,  from  Goethe 
downward.  That  metaphysics,  pure  and  simple, 
is  wholly  antipathetic  to  poetry,  there  can  be  no 
doubt ;  although  certain  rare  geniuses,  like  Emer 
son,  by  drawing  analogies  from  the  sources  of  spec 
ulative  ideas,  give  to  unquestionably  inspired  poetry 
a  philosophic  tone.  But  such  poems  are  as  rare  as 
are  Emersons,  and  the  intelligent  admirers  of  them 
are  very  few. 

In  Wordsworth  the  philosophic  pieces  are  often 
prosy,  though  sometimes  (as  in  the  "  Ode  on  the 
Intimations  of  Immortality  ")  strongly  attractive, 
and  even  magnificent.  It  does  not  appear  that 
philosophy  is  so  much  the  proper  staple  of  poetry 
as  it  is  material  for  the  adornment  of  it ;  or  rather, 
it  may  be  said  that  while  philosophic  observations 
give  pleasure  to  all  intelligent  readers,  the  actual 
pursuit  of  a  philosophic  question  in  the  guise  of  a 
poem  is  wholly  foreign  to  the  purpose  of  poetry  and 
certain  to  result  in  dulness  or  disaster. 

Of  such  philosophic  reflections  or  remarks,  by  the 
way,  there  are  enough  in  Whittier  to  justify  his 
place  among  thinking  men ;  but  he  is  not,  in  the 
confined  acceptation  of  the  word,  a  philosophic 
poet.  And  we  can  easily  see  he  could  not  be  one, 
with  his  strong  religious  principles  and  feelings. 


Characteristics  of  Whitliers  Verse.      371 

The  author  of  "The  Eternal  Goodness"  could  never 
have  originated  tin-  questioning,  doubting,  mocking 
lines  that  we  find  in  "  Faust."  The  soul  that  is 
k-  >ta\ •«•«{  on  ( ;<>d  "  must  dismiss  most  of  the  current 
philosophy  wit  limit  hesitation. 

After  all  deductions  there  remain  the  solid  and 
enduring  qualities  of  genuine  poetry.  Few  ports 
have  had  the  opportunity  to  do  such  work  for  their 
fellow-men  as  Whittier  has  done;  and  few  have 
exerted  such  an  elevating  influence,  even  upon 
readers  for  pleasure.  From  small  beginnings  his 
fame  has  risen  until  it  has  become  the  pride  of  all 
loyal  Americans,  and  is  cherished  also  by  English- 
speaking  people  around  the  world. 


372  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

/^~\UR  narration  has  reached  its  natural  close. 
The  events  of  Whittier's  later  years  are  few, 
and  the  account  of  his  works  has  been  finished. 
The  careful  reader  will  have  noticed  that  many 
poems  printed  in  magazines  and  newspapers  remain 
ungathered,  and  that  abundant  materials  exist  for 
additional  volumes.  Without  doubt,  if  the  poet's 
life  is  spared,  these  will  appear  in  due  time. 

The  poems  and  letters  that  have  been  referred 
to  and  the  brief  account  of  his  labors  show  what 
manner  of  man  he  is.  It  is  not  necessary  to  make 
a  catalogue  of  his  mental  or  moral  characteristics, 
still  less  to  sketch  for  the  curious  his  personal 
manners  and  habits.  A  discreet  editor,  having  in 
mind  the  inborn  modesty  and  delicacy  of  feeling 
of  the  poet,  will  choose  to  let  his  works  and 
deeds  stand  in  place  of  formal  portrait  and  labored 
eulogy.  No  summary  of  his  life-work  is  now  pos 
sible  even  if  its  propriety  were  beyond  question. 


Conclusion.  373 

Many  sketches  of  the  man  have  been  written, 
juul  multitudes  of  reviews  exist,  each  with  points 
of  light  and  with  flaws  of  error.  There  is  not 
room  to  refer  to  them.  This  may  be  said,  how 
ever,  that  the  only  thorough  appreciation  of  Whit- 
tier,  as  man  and  poet,  is  shown  by  those  who  have 
studied  him  longest  and  known  him  best.  The 
glib  and  facile  critic  can  lay  his  finger  on  faults, 
and  sum  his  excellences  in  familiar  formulas,  but 
Whittier  is  to  be  judged  by  men  of  heart  as  well 
as  brain,  and  his  genius  will  be  felt  through 
sympathy.  After  patient  endeavor  to  arrive  at  the 
secret  of  his  power,  it  is  but  just  to  say  that  the 
impression  has  been  steadily  cumulative  ;  and  that 
the  casual  reader,  who  has  not  been  admitted,  as 
it  were,  into  the  poet's  confidence,  can  have  but 
a  slight  conception  of  his  place  in  the  realm  of 
letters,  or  of  his  firm  hold  upon  the  hearts  of  all 
natural  men. 

The  idea  of  making  a  personal  sketch  of  the 
poet  was  considered,  but  has  been  reluctantly 
abandoned.  The  minute  traits  as  well  as  the 
strong  lines  of  his  character  offer  to  a  writer  a 
fascinating  subject ;  but  it  can  be  postponed  ;  — 
and  may  the  proper  time  for  it  be  late  ! 

The  best  and  most  affectionate  study  of  him 
has  been  recently  made  by  Miss  Nora  Perry.  It 


374  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

is  a  charming  article,  and  will  repay  a  careful 
perusal.1 

There  may  be  a  correct  bibliography  of  Whittier, 
but  the  writer  has  never  seen  one  that  did  not  con 
tain  errors.  In  the  Appendix  may  be  found  a  list 
of  his  works,  which  has  been  made  with  care ;  but 
that  it  is  complete  and  beyond  criticism  no  one  can 
say.  Some  alleged  publications  depend  upon  tradi 
tion  rather  than  proof. 

It  has  been  mentioned  before  that  a  great  num 
ber  of  Whittier's  poems  have  never  been  collected 
from  the  newspapers  and  magazines  in  which  they 
appeared.  It  is  also  probable  that  a  very  large 
number  of  his  minor  poems  sent  to  neighbors  and 
friends  remain  unpublished.  There  may  be  a  time 
when  these  can  be  properly  gathered  and  printed. 
His  relations  with  his  friends  have  been  hearty 
and  unconventional ;  and  as  he  was  always  a  natu 
ral  and  spontaneous  rhymer,  there  will  be  found 
hereafter,  in  manuscript,  beyond  doubt,  many  charm 
ing  off-hand  verses.  As  a  specimen,  we  present  an 
impromptu,  written  on  receiving  a  jar  of  butter  from 
a  lady  living  at  Pond  Hills  in  Amesbury :  — 

" '  Words  butter  no  parsnips,'  the  old  adage  says, 
And  to  fill  up  the  trencher  is  better  than  praise; 
So,  trust  me,  dear  friend,  that,  while  eating  thy  butter, 
The  thanks  that  I  feel  are  far  more  than  I  utter. 

1  See  Appendix. 


Conclusion.  375 

"  Kind  Providence  grant  thee  a  life  without  ills ; 
May  the  cows  never  dry  up  that  feed  on  Pond  Hills. 
May  the  cream  never  fail  in  thy  cellar  so  cold, 
Nor  thy  hand  lose  its  cunning  to  turn  it  to  gold. 

"Thrice  welcome  to  him,  who,  unblest  with  a  wife, 
Sits  and  hungles  alone  at  the  ripped  seams  of  life, 
Is  the  womanly  kindness  that  pities  his  fate, 
And  sews  on  his  buttons,  and  fills  up  his  plate  1  " 

Between  these  homely  and  realistic  lines  and  the 
burning  lyrics  of  the  Abolition  period,  or  the  splen 
dors  of  his  lake  and  mountain  scenes,  there  is  a 
wide  interval;  but  we  have  a  peculiar  pleasure  in 
seeing  that  the  poet  is  a  man  of  simple  and  genuine 
feeling,  that  he  shares  the  common  joys  and  sympa 
thies,  and  that  the  contemplation  of  great  subjects 
and  the  use  of  high  and  imaginative  phrases  do  not 
isolate  him  from  humble  and  faithful  friends  and 
neighbors. 

Recurring  once  more  to  the  matter  of  character, 
it  must  be  said  that  few  men  have  presented  such  a 
tempting  and  such  a  baffling  study.  While  he  is 
neither  "  odd"  nor  "  eccentric"  (in  usual  parlance), 
his  personality  is  marked,  and  there  is  a  strongly 
individual  flavor  in  all  his  utterances.  Many  great 
writers  adopt  the  state  of  kings,  and  their  only 
sincere  worshippers  are  those  who  adore  from  a 
distance.  Goethe  came  to  be  more  royal  than  the 
Grand  Duke  whom  he  served.  In  the  case  of 


376  Conclusion. 

Whittier,  with  his  perception  of  the  beautiful,  his 
devotion  to  right,  his  hatred  of  falsity  arid  oppres 
sion,  there  are  found  many  endearing  human  traits, 
—  generous  sympathy,  a  well-spring  of  humor,  a 
relish  for  native  wit  and  for  quaint  phases  of  char 
acter.  He  is  utterly  free  from  the  vanity,  envy,  and 
jealousy  which  belittle  so  many  writers.  Some  im 
perfection  clings  to  all  souls,  but  few  have  been 
observed  in  our  time  so  well  poised,  so  pure,  and 
so  stainless  as  his. 


APPENDIX. 


A  PERSONAL,  SKETCH  OP  WIIITTIER. 


r 


BY  NORA   PERKY. 
[From  the  Boston  "  Home  Journal,"'  June  2,  1883.] 

is  fifteen  years  ago  that  I  first  met  Mr.  AVhittirr. 

I  was  spending  the  latter  half  of  the  summer  in  one 
of  the  quaint  old  neighborhoods  on  the  eastern  shore  of 
Massachusetts,  not  a  great  distance  from  Newburyport 
and  Amesbury,  and  there  formed  the  acquaintance  of  one 
of  his  warmest  friends,  who,  surprised  that  I  had  never 
seen  the  Quaker  poet,  at  once  made  hospitable  arrange 
ments  for  me  to  meet  him  at  her  house.  It  was  a  charm 
ing  late  summer  afternoon  that  I  was  summoned  to  her 
parlor  by  the  announcement  that  Mr.  Whittier  had  ar 
rived.  I  entered  the  room  with  the  preconceived  idea  of 
the  poet's  personate,  that  I  had  gathered  from  the  various 
portraits  I  had  seen,  and  found  myself  face  to  face  with  a 
personality  that  differed  very  decidedly  from  these  coun 
terfeit  presentments.  Instead  of  the  severe,  almost  ascetic 
countenance  of  somewhat  exaggerated  proportions  which  I 
had  in  my  mind,  I  saw  before  me  a  gentle,  cordial  face, 
the  features  of  which  were  finely  and  .-harply  cut,  and  the 
general  contour  of  more  than  ordinary  refinement  and 


3  7  8  Appendix. 

delicacy.  The  salient  expression  was  that  of  earnest 
interest  in  and  for  the  person  before  him.  It  was  the 
poet's  generous  interest  in  a  younger  worker,  which  I 
found  later  was  one  of  his  chief  characteristics.  This 
interest  was  not  that  of  patronage,  but  of  sincere  sym 
pathy.  The  self-effacement  which  this  sympathy  produces 
has  been  called  modesty  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Whittier. 
It  is  not  so  self-conscious  a  quality  as  that.  Modesty  pre 
supposes  some  consciousness  of  self,  in  its  retirement  of 
the  personality.  Mr.  Whittier  is  forgetful  of  this  person 
ality  in  his  sympathetic  interest  in  another  and  another's 
work.  It  was  this  self-forgetfulness  and  sympathy  that  at 
once  made  me  feel  entirely  at  ease,  and  at  home  with  him  ; 
and  it  is  this  that  at  once  puts  every  one  at  ease  with 
him.  I  dwell  upon  this  point,  because  it  betokens  the 
strongest  qualities  in  Mr.  Whittier's  character,  and  is 
the  key-note  to  the  hold  which  his  poems  have  upon  the 
world.  He  is  not  indifferent  to,  nor  does  he  underrate, 
personal  recognition  by  any  means,  but  he  is  not  facing 
his  own  image  all  the  time,  as  seems  to  be  the  unfortunate 
attitude  of  some  whom  fame  has  crowned.  With  a  per 
fectly  clear-headed  estimate  of  the  applause  that  has  fol 
lowed  his  work,  he  is  not  for  a  moment  influenced  or 
swayed  by  it. 

"  Be  careful,"  he  wrote  to  a  young  author  about  to 
publish  her  first  book  of  verse,  "  not  to  make  the  book 
too  large.  Don't  put  everything  into  it,  let  who  will  ad 
vise  it.  Sit  like  Ehadamanthus  in  stern  judgment  upon 
all  that  claims  admission.  I  speak  out  of  the  depths  of 
a  bitter  experience."  At  another  time  to  the  same  young 
author,  who  had  sent  him  a  magazine  containing  some 


.  379 

warm  words  of  admiration  about  him  and  his  work,  lie 
writes:  "Many  thanks  fur  thy  letter  and  magazine.  lam 
sorry  I  don't  deserve  the  kind  words  of  my  too  lenient 
reviewers.  When  I  read  such  notices  I  sum  up  the  ac 
count  on  the  other  side,  —  reckon  all  the  little  meannesses 
and  selfish  feelings  and  weaknesses  I  can  think  of,  and 
bring  myself  sadly  in  debt." 

This,  of  course,  is  in  reference  to  the  personal  praise 
lavished  upon  his  character.  Upon  the  subject  of  appre 
ciation  and  recognition  by  the  world,  he  once  expressed 
himself  to  me  with  that  candor  which  charaeterixes  his 
statements.  I  had  been  telling  him  of  a  conversation 
that  I  had  had  with  a  certain  poetess,  a  friend  of  his, 
who  had  declared  to  me  that  she  would  be  perfectly  con 
tent  to  receive  no  personal  recognition  of  her  work  if  the 
work  itself  was  recognized,  —  that  her  name,  her  author 
ship,  might  be  entirely  unknown  to  her  readers  and  she 
be  content.  Not  sympathizing  precisely  with  this  separa 
tion  of  one's  individual  self  from  one's  work  in  this  man 
ner,  I  laid  the  matter  before  Mr.  Whittier,  asking  him 
what  his  feeling  was  upon  the  subject.  He  replied:  "I 
don't  feel  as  our  friend  does.  I  don't  like  notoriety. 
I  don't  like  that  part  of  personal  recognition  which,  when 
I  get  into  a  car,  makes  people  nudge  their  neighbors,  and 
whisper,  'That's  Whittier!'  But  I  like  the  int«  rotini; 
persons  it  has  introduced  to  me,  —  the  friends  it  has 
brought  me." 

With  a  natural  New  England  reserve  and  shyness, 
strengthened  by  his  Quaker  education,  Mr.  Whittier 
doubtless  felt  that  his  best  introduction  to  others  was 
through  his  writings,  and  that  the  personal  acquaintance 


380  Appendix. 

that  followed  was  on  fuller  and  easier  terms  than  if  he 
had  been  denied  that  vehicle  of  expression.  He  would 
never  have  been  one  to  seek  others,  however  he  might 
have  been  placed.  When,  however,  others  seek  him, 
they  find  him  always  ready  to  respond  to  their  advances, 
if  those  advances  are  from  genuine  emotions  of  sympathy 
and  attraction.  Never  anything  but  kind  in  his  treatment 
of  any  person,  he  discriminates  at  once  between  the  curi 
ous  celebrity  hunter,  the  autograph  bore,  and  the  person 
who  approaches  him  with  that  interest  which  is  born  of 
kindred  thought.  When  he  meets  such  a  one,  it  is  with 
that  gladness  that  Emerson  voices,  when  he  says,  "  Every 
new  person  may  be  an  event  to  me."  With  none  of  that 
self-consciousness  of  achievement  which  usually  creates 
an  atmosphere  that  invites  personal  remark,  it  is  not  an 
easy  matter  for  a  person  of  taste  to  abruptly  introduce 
Mr.  Whittier's  work  when  in  his  presence.  Most  cele 
brated  persons  receive  with  equanimity  the  direct  words 
of  praise  that  are  bestowed  upon  them.  Mr.  Whittier 
seems  to  bear  them  with  a  sort  of  resigned  patience  and 
composure  that  is  sometimes  very  amusing.  I  recall  an 
occasion  of  this  kind.  It  was  at  rather  a  noted  gathering, 
and  a  lady  who  was  a  great  admirer  of  his  poems  sought 
an  introduction  to  him.  An  impulsive  and  emotional 
person,  she  was  so  carried  away  by  the  unexpected  delight 
of  the  moment,  —  the  honor  and  pleasure  of  meeting  and 
speaking  with  the  poet  whose  books  she  had  read  and 
reverenced  so  long,  that,  at  the  first  sentence,  when  giv 
ing  way  to  her  emotional  tendencies  she  attempted  to 
put  this  delight  into  words,  she  broke  down  completely, 
and  wept.  Mr.  Whittier  stood  dumb,  receiving  the  tear- 


.  381 

ful  words  like  a  gentle  martyr.  He  no  doubt  appreciate <1 
to  the  full  the  affectionate  yet  reverential  admiration  that 
drew  forth  thU  di-play  <»t'  emotion,  hut  he  had  been  made 
the  centre  of  a  sn-m\  and  this  was  embarrassing  and  pain- 
ful  to  him.  At  the  first  note  of  agitation  after  the  intro 
duction,  I  had  basely  betaken  myself  out  of  the  imnu-diatc! 
range  of  this  scene.  When  it  was  over  I  returned,  to  be 
greeted  with  a  quix/.ical  glance  from  Mr.  Whittier's  dark, 
penetrating  eyes,  and  the  remark,  "  Thee  could  run  away, 
but  /  had  to  stay." 

Yet,  as  I  have  said,  lie  had  no  doubt  appreciated  the  feel 
ing  that  had  called  forth  all  this  emotion,  for  I  have  never 
seen  him  insensible  to  the  real  feeling  that  lurked  under 
any  demonstration  ;  but  for  the  time  such  demonstrations 
embarrass  him.  They  are  not  in  accord  with  his  reserved 
nature,  the  education  that  he  has  received,  and  the  life 
long  associations  with  the  calm,  self-repressed  Quakers. 
It  is  a  significant  fact,  however,  that  to  the  Quakers  them 
selves  Mr.  Whit  tier  does  not  seem  specially  self-repressed. 
His  outspokenness  upon  the  anti-slavery  question,  his 
deeper  interest  in  the  political  affairs  of  the  state  and  the 
nation,  and  his  expression  by  his  vote  and  pen  of  this  in 
terest,  show  that  the  external  sign  of  quiet  is  more  that  of 
training  than  of  nature.  As  some  one  once  said  of  him, 
"He  was  born  a  soldier  and  made  over  into  a  Quaker, 
and  the  soldier  knocks  the  Quaker  down  now  and  then." 
This  was  during  the  days  of  the  war,  when  words  and 
opinions  ran  high  and  the  soldierly  spirit  earne.  more 
prominently  to  the  surface.  All  through  this  period. 
when  the  nation  was  being  bapti/ed  in  blood.  \\e  know 
how  this  Quaker  soldier  used  both  tongue  and  pen,  —  two 


382  Appendix. 

weapons  more  than  equal  to  any  sword  or  musket  he 
might  have  carried. 

"  I  remember,"  said  a  gentleman  to  me  the  other  day, 
when  we  were  speaking  of  Mr.  Whittier's  life  and  char 
acter,  "  the  effect  that  some  of  his  war  poems  had  upon 
the  community.  I  specially  recall  now  that  stirring  thing, 
beginning :  — 

'  We  wait  beneath  the  furnace-blast 
The  pangs  of  transformation  ; 

Not  painlessly  doth  God  recast 
And  mould  anew  the  nation.' 

There  is  one  stanza  that  I  cannot  now  recollect,  which 
made  the  Copperheads  rave ;  it  spoke  of  the  broken  oath 
of  the  men  of  the  South." 

The  stanza  alluded  to  is  the  following  :  — 

"  What  gives  the  wheat-field  blades  of  steel  ? 
What  points  the  rebel  cannon  ? 
What  sets  the  roaring  rabble's  heel 
On  the  old  star-spangled  pennon  ? 

What  breaks  the  oath 

Of  the  men  o'  the  South  ? 

What  whets  the  knife 

For  the  Union's  life  ? 
Hark  to  the  answer  :  Slavery  ! " 

But  it  was  not  only  during  the  war  that  these  impas 
sioned  lyrics  sprang  forth ;  —  all  along  -the  years  that 
led  up  to  that  war  they  rang  out  like  bugle  calls.  His 
poem  entitled  "  Slave  Ships  "  glows  like  Turner's  picture, 
with  the  accurate  realism  that  Turner  lacks.  His  "  To 
Faneuil  Hall,"  "  Massachusetts,"  "  To  a  Southern  States 
man,"  "To  William  Lloyd  Garrison,"  and  indeed  every 


.  388 

in  the  collection  styled  "Voices  of  Freedom  "  burns 
ami  brats  with  the  n-d-hot  soldier  fire.  All  this  j.u!  him 
in  the  front  ranks  of  the  anti-shivery  party,  and  ostraci/ed 
hint  in  tin-  old  days  as  it  ostraci/cd  (Jarrison  and  Phillips 
and  Simmer  and  the  rest  of  the  abolitionists.  I.ut  history 
was  making  rapidly  at  that  time,  and  those-  that  were  O6- 
trari/ed  before  the  war  were  recognized  as  heroes  during 
the  latter  part  of  the  struggle  and  after  it. 

Looking  bark  down  the  years,  it  is  interesting  to  specu 
late  as  to  the  position,  the  place,  that  AVhittier  had  held  if 
he  had  lacked  that  peculiar  moral  impulse  toward  reform 
that  made,  him  join  hands  with  the  abolitionists.  It  is 
difficult  to  separate  him  from  his  fiery,  protesting  spirit ; 
still,  a  shade  L-ss  here,  a  shade  more  there,  and  we  might 
yet  have  had  the  poet  attuned  to  other  speech,  for  he 
must  have  been  a  poet  under  any  condition.  There  are 
always  those  who  will  cry  that  opiwrtunity  is  the  great 
thing,  and  that  poet,  soldier,  or  statesman  is  the  outgrowth 
of  that.  This  is  the  petty  tape  measurement  of  spiritual 
things,  which  delights  the  small  mind,  alert  with  jealousy 
of  superior  gifts.  If  the  young  Quaker,  brooding  over 
his  plough  in  those  early  days,  and  finding  in  every  change 
of  the  landscape  some  poetic  inspiration,  had  not  been 
stirred  in  his  moral  nature  by  the  anti-slavery  agitation, 
or  if  there  had  been  no  anti-slavery  agitation,  somewhere 
he  would  have  found  the  "  subject  made  to  his  hand " 
which  douhth-ss  would  have  rendered  his  name  as  famous, 
but  scarcely  as  beloved,  u  it  is  now.  Fortunately  for 
the  great  cause,  however,  of  the  country,  he  ranged  him 
self  at  the  outset  with  what  was  thought  then  to  be  the 
fanatical  minority,  and,  from  beginning  to  end  lighting  the 


384  Appendix. 

good  fight  without  thought  of  selfish  reckoning,  he  has 
won  for  himself  a  triple  crown  of  honor  and  glory. 

It  is  interesting  to  hear  sometimes  from  his  lips  pithy 
description  of  those  old  days  of  conflict.  Once,  not  long 
ago,  I  remember  in  some  conversation  the  topic  of  per 
sonal  courage  came  up,  and  Mr.  Whittier  disclaimed  for 
himself  the  possession  of  that  quality. 

"  But,"  I  said,  "  you  always  seemed  to  have  the  courage 
of  your  opinions  under  any  trying  circumstances." 

"  Oh,  well,"  he  returned,  "  a  man,  if  he  is  a  man,  must 
face  some  things.  I  recollect  a  time  when  I  came  out  of 
a  meeting,  in  the  old  anti-slavery  days,  that  some  rough 
fellows  threatened  us,  and  I  turned  and  faced  them,  and 
so  holding  their  eyes  went  out.  No  other  way  would 
have  done,  you  know.  The  thing  for  a  man  to  do  was  to 
face  'em,  not  to  turn  his  back  on  'em,  or  run." 

It  was  of  no  use  to  tell  Mr.  Whittier  that  this  was  the 
highest  kind  of  courage.  He  might  have  recognized  the 
fact  as  connected  with  another,  but  with  himself,  never. 
What  would  have  called  forth  from  him  hearty  apprecia 
tion  and  admiration  if  another  had  been  the  hero,  only 
appeared  in  the  most  commonplace  aspect  as  his  own  act. 
It  is  this  quality  of  humility  which  sometimes  diverges 
into  self-deprecation  that  makes  him  so  acceptable  a 
neighbor  to  his  townsmen.  He  is  not  counting  his  own 
honors,  but  on  the  contrary  is  sincerely  interested  in  the 
welfare  of  those  about  him,  and  always  a  kind  and  hospita 
ble  host.  He  must  weary  of  a  great  many  of  the  trav 
ellers  that  seek  him,  and  as  the  years  go  on  he  must  find 
means  to  protect  himself  from  the  mere  celebrity  hunter- 
But  in  that  old  home  at  Amesbury  very  few,  I  fancy,  have 


385 

crossed  the  threshold  who  have  not  been  made  to  feel  that 
they  were  w»  l«.in«-.  The  host  is  not  only  hospitable  to 
tlif  visitor  in  the  n-nal  manner,  but  he  is  hospitable  to 
the  visitor's  thoughts,  opinions,  and  tastes,  though  these 
may  differ  materially  from  his  own.  Knowing  something 
of  his  liberality  and  acceptance,  I  was  yet  taken  by  sur 
prise  on  one  occasion.  I  was  spending  the  day  at  Ames- 
Imry  ;  the  other  guest  was  a  gentleman  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  AVhittier's, —  one  that  the  (Quakers  would  very  decid 
edly  term  "  one  of  the  world's  people."  As  we  rose  from 
the  table,  Mr.  Whittier  led  the  way  into  his  study.  It 
was  a  lovely  June  day,  and  the  door  that  communicated 
with  the  little  side  piazza  or  porch  was  set  wide  open. 
AVith  a  sudden,  quick  perception  of  his  guest's  after- 
dinner  habit,  Mr.  Whittier  turned  and  said,  "  Now  if  thee 
wants  to  smoke,  don't  hesitate  —  the  porch  is  just  the 
place." 

The  guest  very  politely  uttered  his  thanks  —  he  knew 
Mr.  Whittier  did  n't  smoke  —  he  would  take  himself  into 
the  garden,  etc.,  if  Mr.  AVhittier  would  permit  him.  But 
Mr.  AVhittier  would  hear  nothing  of  the  kind.  To  be 
sure  he  did  n't  smoke,  but  he  liked  his  friends  the  smokers, 
etc.,  and  would  n't  hear  of  this  friend  going  farther.  So 
while  the  feminine  portion  of  the  company  sat  just  within, 
the  Quaker  host  sat  without  on  the  little  porch  while  "  one 
of  the  world's  people  "  enjoyed  his  after-dinner  cigar  to 
his  heart's  content.  But  one  might  go  on  multiplying 
these  genial  stories  to  almost  any  extent.  It  is  not  neces 
sary,  however,  to  multiply  such  incidents  to  show  the 
healthy  equipoise  of  Mr.  \\  liittier's  character.  A  reformer, 
he  is  not  a  fanatic,  and  does  not  insist  that  there  is  but  one 

25 


386  Appendix. 

road  to  righteousness.  In  reply  to  something  that  I  once 
said  to  him  in  regard  to  "  meeting  matters,"  he  wrote 
thus  succinctly  and  half  humorously  :  — 

"  I  quite  agree  with about  meeting  matters, 

but  I  don't  make  it  a  specialty.  The  world  is  wide,  and 
as  the  Moslem  says,  <  God  is  great.'  Things  will  worry 
along  somehow,  as  they  always  have  done  ;  and  the  end 
will  be  well." 

Of  Mr.  Whittier's  social  side  less  has  been  written  than 
of  the  reformatory  and  literary.  He  is  generally  spoken 
of  as  a  shy  man,  avoiding  all  society.  If  "by  society  we 
mean  large  parties,  dinners,  and  receptions,  the  general 
idea  is  a  true  one.  But  I  think  that  no  one  enjoys  the 
society  of  a  few  friends  better  than  this  accredited  society 
hater ;  and  with  these,  his  humor,  and  sometimes  keen 
wit,  finds  ready  play.  No  one  relishes  a  good  story  more, 
nor  can  relate  one  with  better  grace.  The  sense  of  the 
ludicrous  is  very  vivid,  and  the  absurdities  of  life  and  its 
situations  strike  him  never  more  forcibly  than  when  they 
involve  himself.  Thus  in  the  many  instances  where  the 
celebrity  hunter,  the  autograph  tramp,  has  ferreted  him 
out,  some  point  of  the  ludicrous  in  the  experience  has 
lighted  it  up,  and  made  a  little  comedy  of  what  would 
otherwise  have  been  an  unmitigated  bore.  Like  Mr. 
Longfellow,  Mr.  Whittier  is  more  indulgent  to  the  auto 
graph  tramp  than  he  ought  to  be,  but  he  can  say  "  No," 
on  occasions,  and  turn  his  back  upon  the  pursuer  with 
commendable  courage.  But  capable  always  of  making 
clear  distinctions,  of  separating  the  wheat  from  the  tares, 
he  recognizes  the  sincerity  of  true  sympathy  and  appre 
ciation,  and  responds  with  a  courtesy  and  kindness  that  is 


.  387 

full  of  hearty  friendliness.  Some  of  his  he-t  thoughts 
have  Iteen  tersely  put  in  a  verse  or  two  that  In-  has  written 
for  such  occasions.  One  of  these  was  penned  at  the  re 
quest  of  a  friend  for  an  ancient  sun-dial  that  stood  in  his 
—  tin-  friend's  —  uardrii.  AVliat  could  be  hotter,  more 
Complete,  than  this?  — 

"With  warning  hand  I  mark  Time's  rapid  flight, 
From  life's  glad  morning  to  its  solemn  night, 
Y  t  through  the  dear  (Jod's  love  I  also  show 
There  's  light  above  me  by  the  shade  below."  1 

In  the  poet's  published  volumes,  though  we  find  now 
and  then  a  grim  humor,  we  do  not  see  the  lighter  strain 
of  wit  and  gayi-ty  that  occasionally  breaks  out  in  his  con 
versation.  The  brightness  and  lightness  of  this  strain  is 
very  charmingly  exemplified  in  the  following  stanza  that 
he  wrote  in  a  young  friend's  album,  and  which  I  am  per 
mitted  to  copy  :  — 

"  Ah,  ladies,  you  love  to  levy  a  tax 
On  my  poor  little  paper  parcel  of  fame  ; 
Vet  strange  it  seems  that  among  you  all 
No  one  is  willing  to  take  my  name  — 
To  write  and  rewrite  till  the  angels  pity  her, 
The  weariful  words, 

Thine  truly,  Whittier." 

Examples  of  equal  sportiveness  might  be  collected  from 
various  unpublished  ver-es  of  this  sort,  and  they  would 
serve  to  show  perhaps  that.  -i\<  n  less  grave  and  serious 
associations,  Mr.  Whittier  might  have  developed,  or 
worked  \\\\<  lighter  vein  very  successfully.  Hut  with 
these  less  serious  conditions  of  life  we  might  have  mi--«  d 


- 


1  Written  for  Dr.  Henry  I.  Bowditch. 


388  Appendix. 

such  burning  poems  as  were  inspired  by  the  stormy  times 
in  which  he  found  himself ;  and  as  he  himself  has  said  in 
his  eloquent  poem,  "  My  Birthday," 

"  Better  than  self-indulgent  years 
The  outflung  heart  of  youth, 
Than  pleasant  songs  in  idle  years, 
The  tumult  of  the  truth." 

True  to  the  letter  of  this  verse  has  been  the  poet's  life, 
yet  in  the  very  thick  of  the  fight,  in  the  very  heart  of 
these  tumultuous  days,  the  friends  that  came  to  him  never 
found  him  set  up  upon  any  pinnacle  of  reformation,  never 
anxious  to  preach  and  hold  forth  upon  these  truths  exclu 
sively,  as  if  no  other  topics  existed. 

Time  and  place  are  greatly  regarded  by  the  Quakers. 
They  wait  for  the  spirit  to  move,  and  it  generally  moves 
in  an  orderly  manner.  Sitting  in  the  simple  cosey  study 
at  Amesbury,  —  that  has  been  so  accurately  portrayed  in 
the  "  illustrated  Whittier,"  —  or  upon  the  porch  outside, 
friends  of  varying  beliefs  and  tastes  have  enjoyed  them 
selves  gayly  or  gravely  as  the  mood  prompted  them. 
Whatever  the  subject  of  the  talk,  it  is  always  easy  be 
cause  never  forced,  and  always  interesting  because  Mr. 
Whittier  has  that  great  essential  for  a  host,  sympathy, 
and  the  appreciation  that  grows  out  of  that  companionable 
quality. 


Appendix.  389 


MIDDLE-CENTURY  POLITICS. 

THE  following  humorous  and  satirical  verses  were  pub 
lished  in  the  "  Boston  Chronotype  "  in  1846.  They  refer 
to  the  contest  in  New  Hampshire,  which  resulted  in  the 
defeat  of  the  pro-slavery  Democracy,  and  in  the  election 
of  John  P.  Hale  to  the  United  States  Senate.  Although 
their  authorship  was  not  acknowledged  by  Mr.  Whittier  at 
the  time,  there  was  a  strong  suspicion  that  they  were  from 
his  pen.  They  furnish  a  specimen  of  the  way,  on  the 
whole  rather  good-natured,  in  which  the  liberty-lovers  of 
half  a  century  ago  answered  the  social  and  political  out 
lawry  and  mob  violence  to  which  they  were  subjected. 

A    LETTER 

SUPPOSED  TO  BE  WRTTTEX  BT  THE  CHAIRMAN  OF  THB  "  CEKTKAL  CLIQCB  "  AT  COHCOBD, 
M.  H.,  TO  THE  HON.  M.  JJ.,  JR.,  AT  WASHINGTON,  GIVING  THK  RESULT  OF  THE  ELECTION. 

'T  is  over,  Moses  !    All  is  lost  ! 

I  hear  the  bells  a-ringing  ; 
Of  Pharaoh  and  his  Red  Sea  host 

I  hear  the  Free-Wills  singing.1 
We  're  routed,  Moses,  horse  and  foot, 

If  there  be  truth  in  figures, 
With  federal  Whigs  in  hot  pursuit, 

And  Hale,  and  all  the  "  niggers." 

Alack  !  alas  !  this  month  or  more 

WTe  've  felt  a  sad  foreboding  ; 
Our  very  dreams  the  burden  bore 

Of  central  cliques  exploding  ; 

1  The  book  establishment  of  the  Free-Will  Baptists  In  Dover  was  refused  the 
act  of  incorporation  by  the  New  Hampshire  Legislature,  for  the  reason  that  the 
newspaper  organ  of  that  sect  and  its  leading  preachers  favored  abolition. 


39°  Appendix. 

Before  our  eyes  a  furnace  shone, 

Where  heads  of  dough  were  roasting, 

And  one  we  took  to  be  your  own 
The  traitor  Hale  was  toasting  ! 

Our  Belknap  brother  1  heard  with  awe 

The  Congo  minstrels  playing  ; 
At  Pittstield  Reuben  Leavitt 2  saw 

The  ghost  of  Storrs  a-praying  ; 
And  Carroll's  woods  were  sad  to  see, 

With -black- winged  crows  a-darting  ; 
And  Black  Snout  looked  on  Ossipee, 

New-glossed  with  Day  and  Martin. 

We  thought  the  "  Old  Man  of  the  Notch  " 

His  face  seemed  changing  wholly  — 
His  lips  seemed  thick  ;  his  nose  seemed  flat ; 

His  misty  hair  looked  woolly  ; 
And  Coos  teamsters,  shrieking,  fled 

From  the  metamorphosed  figure. 
"Look  there  !  "  they  said,  "the  Old  Stone  Head 

Himself  is  turning  nigger  !  " 

Gray  Hubbard  3  heard  o'  nights  the  sound 

Of  rail-cars  onward  faring  ; 
Eight  over  Democratic  ground 

The  iron  horse  came  tearing. 
A  flag  waved  o'er  that  spectral  train, 

As  high  as  Pittsfield  steeple  ; 
Its  emblem  was  a  broken  chain  ; 

Its  motto  :  "  To  the  people  !  " 

I  dreamed  that  Charley  took  his  bed, 
With  Hale  for  his  physician  ; 

1  The  senatorial  editor  of  the  "  Belknap  Gazette  "  has  all  along  manifested 
a  peculiar  horror  of  "niggers  "  and  "  nigger  parties." 

2  The  justice  before  whom  Elder  Storrs  was  brought  for  preaching  abolition, 
on  a  writ  drawn  by  Hon.  M.  N.,  Jr.,  of  Pittsfield.    The  sheriff  served  the  writ 
while  the  elder  was  praying. 

8  Ex-Governor  Hubbard's  peculiar  notions  of  the  rights  of  individuals  and 
of  corporations  in.  respect  of  railroad  routes  are  well  known. 


391 

His  daily  close  an  oil  "  unread 

Ami  nn  referred  "  petition.1 
Th.-iv  H:iyfs  and  Turk  as  nurses  sat, 

As  near  as  ini:ir  could  he,  man  ; 
They  leeched  him  with  the  "  Democrat ; " 

They  blistered  with  tin;  ''  l-'reeman." 

Ah  !  grisly  portents  !    What  avail 
Your  terrors  of  forewarning  ? 

We  wake  to  tind  the  nightnuiv  Halo 

Astride  our  breasts  at  morning  ! 
From  Portsmouth  lights  to  Indian  stream 

Our  foes  their  throats  are  trying  ; 
The  very  factory-spindles  seem 

To  mock  us  while  they  're  Hying. 

The  hills  have  bonfires  ;  in  our  streets 

tlout  us  in  our  faces  ; 
The  newsboys,  peddling  off  their  sheets, 

An-  hoarse  with  our  disgi 
In  vain  we  turn,  for  gibing  wit 

And  shoutings  follow  after, 
As  if  old  Kearsarge  had  split 

1 1  is  granite  sides  with  laughter  ! 

What  boots  it  that  we  pelted  out 

The  anti-slavery  women,2 
And  bravely  strewed  their  hall  about 

With  tattered  lace  and  trimming  ? 
Was  it  for  such  a  sad  reverse 

Our  mobs  became  peacemakers, 
And  kept  their  tar  and  wooden  horse 

For  Englishmen  and  Quakers?8 

l  "Papers  and  memorials  touching  the  subject  of  slavery  shall  be  laid  on 
tlie  table  without  readin_'.  deh.-it.-,  ..r  Prf  irc&sional  (!<><} 

Law. 

5  The  Female  Anti-slavery  Society,  at  its  first  inert  in.,'  in  Concord,  was  as- 
sailfil  with  stones  and  bri- 

3  Thf  r,-l.-br:it.-.I    Kn-lish   al.  .litioii  Riompson,  and  hi  =    • 

'    «'"•   h-.n-irs  ..f  t: 
I  mob  of  1836  belong  in  a  very  equal  degree  t  :  Democrats. 


392  Appendix. 


For  this  did  shifty  Atherton 

Make  gag  rules  for  the  Great  House  ? 
"Wiped  we  for  this  our  feet  upon 

Petitions  in  our  State  House  ? 
Plied  we  for  this  our  axe  of  doom, 

No  stubborn  traitor  sparing, 
Who  scoffed  at  our  opinion  loom, 

And  took  to  homespun  wearing  ? 

Ah,  Moses  !  hard  it  is  to  scan 

These  crooked  providences, 
Deducing  from  the  wisest  plan 

The  saddest  consequences  ! 
Strange  that,  in  trampling  as  was  meet 

The  nigger-men's  petition, 
"We  sprung  a  mine  beneath  our  feet 

Which  opened  up  perdition. 

The  very  thing  we  greatly  feared 

At  last  has  come  upon  us  ; 
Like  autumn  leaves  the  frost  has  seared 

Fall  off  our  blushing  honors. 
The  blow  we  dreaded  most  has  come 

From  Hale,  (the  more 's  the  pity  !) 
Appealing  to  the  people  from 

The  people's  own  committee  ! 

How  goodly,  Moses,  was  the  game 

In  which  we  've  long  been  actors, 
Supplying  freedom  with  the  name 

And  slavery  with  the  practice  ! 
Our  smooth  words  fed  the  people's  mouth, 

Their  ears  our  party  rattle  ; 
We  kept  them  headed  to  the  South, 

As  drovers  do  their  cattle. 

But  now  our  game  of  politics 
The  world  at  large  is  learning  ; 

And  men  grown  gray  in  all  our  tricks 
State's  evidence  are  turning. 


Appcndir.  393 

Votes  and  preambles  subtly  spun 

They  cram  with  meanings  louder, 
And  load  the  Democratic  gnu 

With  abolition  powder. 

The  ides  of  June  !    Woe  worth  the  day 

When,  turning  all  tilings  over, 
Tin;  traitor  Hah-  shall  make  his  hay 

From  Democratic  clover  ! 
Who  then  shall  take  him  in  the  law, 

Who  punish  crime  so  flagrant  ? 
Wh«»e  hand  shall  serve,  whose  pen  shall  draw, 

A  writ  against  that  "  vagrant  "  ? l 

Alas  !  no  hope  is  left  us  here, 

And  one  can  only  pine  for 
The  envied  place  of  overseer 

Of  slaves  in  Carolina  ! 
Pray,  Moses,  give  Calhoun  the  wink, 

And  see  what  pay  he  's  giving  ! 
We  've  practised  long  enough,  we  think, 

To  know  the  art  of  driving. 

And  for  the  faithful  rank  and  file, 

Who  know  their  proper  stations, 
Perhaps  it  may  be  worth  their  while 

To  try  the  rice  plantations. 
Let  Hale  exult,  let  Wilson  scoff, 

To  see  us  southward  scamper  ; 
The  slaves,  we  know,  are  "  better  off 

Than  laborers  in  New  Hampshire  !  " 

Elder  Storrs  was  described  as  a  "  vagrant"  in  the  Hon.  M.  N.'s  writ 


394  Appendix. 


WOMAN  SUFFRAGE. 

LETTER    TO    THE    NEWPORT    CONVENTION. 

AMESBUE.Y,  MASS.,  12th  8th  Month,  1869. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  —  I  have  received  thy  letter  invit 
ing  me  to  attend  the  Convention  in  behalf  of  Woman's 
Suffrage,  at  Newport,  E.  L,  on  the  25th  inst.  I  do  not 
see  how  it  is  possible  for  me  to  accept  the  invitation ;  and, 
were  I  to  do  so,  the  state  of  my  health  would  prevent  me 
from  taking  such  a  part  in  the  meeting  as  would  relieve 
me  from  the  responsibility  of  seeming  to  sanction  anything 
in  its  action  which  might  conflict  with  my  own  views  of 
duty  or  policy.  Yet  I  should  do  myself  great  injustice 
if  I  did  not  embrace  this  occasion  to  express  my  general 
sympathy  with  the  movement.  I  have  seen  no  good 
reason  why  mothers,  wives,  and  daughters  should  not 
have  the  same  right  of  person,  property,  and  citizenship 
which  fathers,  husbands,  and  brothers  have. 

The  sacred  memory  of  mother  and  sister  —  the  wisdom 
and  dignity  of  women  of  my  own  religious  communion 
who  have  been  accustomed  to  something  like  equality  in 
rights  as  well  as  duties  —  my  experience  as  a  co-worker 
with  noble  and  self-sacrificing  women,  as  graceful  and 
helpful  in  their  household  duties  as  firm  and  courageous 
in  their  public  advocacy  of  unpopular  truth  —  the  steady 
friendships  which  have  inspired  and  strengthened  me  — 
and  the  reverence  and  respect  which  I  feel  for  human 
nature,  irrespective  of  sex,  compel  me  to  look  with  some 
thing  more  than  acquiescence  on  the  efforts  you  are  mak- 


395 

inur.  I  frankly  confe>s  that  I  am  not  able  to  foresee  .-til 
the  consequences  of  the  -n-at  social  and  political  change 
proposed,  hut  of  this  I  am,  at  IraM,  sun-,  it  is  always  safe 
to  do  rLjht.and  tin-  truest  expediency  is  simple  justice.  I 
can  understand,  without  sharing,  tlie  mi-uivings  of  those 
who  fear  that,  when  the  vote  drops  from  woman's  hand 
into  the  hallot-ho.\.  the  hranty  and  sentiment,  the  bloom 
and  sweetness,  «>f  \voinanliood  will  1:0  with  it.  But  in  this 
matter  it  seem>  to  me  we  ran  tru>t  Nature.  Stronger 
than  statute,  or  conventions,  she  will  he  conservative  of 
all  that  the  true  man  loves  and  honors  in  woman.  Hero 
ami  there  may  he  found  an  equivocal,  unsexed  Chevalier 
D'Eon,  but  the  rternal  onlcr  and  titness  of  things  will 
remain.  I  have,  no  fear  that  man  will  be  less  manly  or 
woman  less  womanly  when  they  meet  on  terms  of  equality 
before  the  law. 

On  the  otln-r  hand,  I  do  not  see  that  the  exercise  of  the 
ballot  by  woman  will  prove  a  remedy  for  all  the  evils  of 
whieh  she  justly  complains.  It  is  her  right  as  truly  as 
mine,  and  when  she  a>ks  for  it,  it  is  something  less  than 
manhood  to  withhold  it.  But,  unsupported  by  a  more 
practical  education,  higher  aims,  and  a  deeper  sense  of  the 
r.-poii>ibiliti«-s  of  life  ;.nd  duty,  it  is  not  likely  to  prove 
a  bitting  in  her  hands  any  more  than  in  man's. 

AVith  threat  respect  and  hearty  sympathy,  I  am  very 
truly  thy  friend, 

JOHN  G.  WIHTTII  u. 


396  Appendix. 


THE   DEITY. 

[Believed  to  be  the  first  poem  of  Whittier  in  print.] 

THE  Prophet  stood 

On  the  high  mount,  and  saw  the  tempest  cloud 
Pour  the  fierce  whirlwind  from  its  reservoir 
Of  congregated  gloom.     The  mountain  oak, 
Torn  from  the  earth,  heaved  high  its  roots  where  once 
Its  branches  waved.     The  fir-tree's  shapely  form, 
Smote  by  the  tempest,  lashed  the  mountain's  side. 
Yet,  calm  in  conscious  purity,  the  Seer 
Beheld  the  awful  desolation,  for 
The  Eternal  Spirit  moved  not  in  the  storm. 

The  tempest  ceased.     The  caverned  earthquake  burst 
Forth  from  its  prison,  and  the  mountain  rocked 
Even  to  its  base.     The  topmost  crags  were  thrown, 
With  fearful  crashing,  down  its  shuddering  sides, 
Unawed,  the  Prophet  saw  and  heard  ;  he  felt 
Not  in  the  earthquake  moved  the  God  of  Heaven. 

The  murmur  died  away  ;  and  from  the  height, 
Torn  by  the  storm  and  shattered  by  the  shock, 
Rose  far  and  clear  a  pyramid  of  flame 
Mighty  and  vast ;  the  startled  mountain  deer 
Shrank  from  its  glare,  and  cowered  within  the  shade  ; 
The  wild  fowl  shrieked  —  but  even  then  the  Seer 
Untrembling  stood  and  marked  the  fearful  glow, 
For  Israel's  God  came  not  within  the  flame  ! 

The  fiery  beacon  sank.     A  still,  small  voice, 
Unlike  to  human  sound,  at  once  conveyed 
Deep  awe  and  reverence  to  his  pious  heart. 
Then  bowed  the  holy  man  ;  his  face  he  veiled 
Within  his  mantle  —  and  in  meekness  owned 
The  presence  of  his  God,  discerned  not  in 
The  storm,  the  earthquake,  or  the  mighty  flame. 


397 


LIST    OF   POEMS   FIRST    PRINTED    IN  THE 
"NATIONAL    ERA." 

On  the  Death  of  Thomas  Clarkson         .         .  Jan.  1847. 

Song  of  Slaves  in  the  Desert      ....  Jan.  1847. 

Randolph  of  Roanoke Jan.  1847. 

A  Dream  of  Summer          .....  Jan.  1847. 

IJu relay  of  Ury March,  1847. 

Yi.rktown April,  1847. 

"What  the  Voice  said April,  1847. 

The  Angel  of  Patience May,  1847. 

The  Angels  of  Buena  Vista  ....  May,  1847. 

Lines  accompanying  Manuscripts       .         .         .  July,  1847. 

The  Drovers Nov.  1847. 

The  Huskers Dec.  1847. 

Tl ic  Slaves  of  Martinique      ....  Jan.  1848. 

The  Reward Feb.  1848. 

The  Crisis March,  1848. 

The  Holy  Land April,  1848. 

The  Curse  of  the  Charter- Breakers         .         .  May,  1848. 

ii .  Sept.  1848. 

The  Wish  of  To-day Nov.  1848. 

The  Peace  Convention  at  Brussels     .         .         .  Dec.  1848. 

Impromptu Feb.  1849. 

The  Christian  Tourists March,  1849. 

The  Legend  of  St.  Mark        ....  May,  1849. 

The  Men  of  Old June,  1849. 

Lines  by  the  Lakeside July,  1849. 

To  Pius  IX Aug.  1849. 

Calef  in  Boston Sept.  1849. 

Our  State Nov.  1849. 

To  Fredrika  Bremer Nov.  1849. 

Elliott Jan.  1850. 

Lines  on  a  Portrait April,  1850. 

The  Hill  Top May,  1850. 

Ichabod May,  1850. 

A  Sabbath  Scene  June,  1850. 


298  Appendix. 


All 's  Well July,    1850. 

To  A.  K Aug.     1850. 

Derne Sept.     1850. 

Stanzas  for  the  Times Dec.      1850. 

The  Chapel  of  the  Hermits  ....  March,  1851. 

Invocation       .......  April,    1851. 

Lines April,    1851. 

Moloch  in  State  Street May,     1851. 

Wordsworth June,    1851. 

In  Peace July,     1851. 

Lines  on  a  Summer  Excursion      .         .         .  July,     1851. 

The  Prisoners  of  Naples Oct.       1851. 

Benedicite Oct.      1851. 

Kossuth Dec.      1851. 

The  Peace  of  Europe Feb.     1852. 

The  Cross Feb.     1852. 

April April,  1852. 

Questions  of  Life June,  1852. 

Pictures Aug.     1852. 

Astrsea              Oct.      1852. 

Trust Feb.     1853. 

Summer  by  the  Lakeside Sept.    1853. 

Lines,  "  The  Higher  Law  ".         .         .         .  March,  1853. 

Tauler     .         . April,   1853. 

The  Hero April,  1853. 

Rantoul July,    1853. 

The  Dream  of  Pio  Nono       .         .         .         .  Aug.     1853. 

The  Voices Jan.      1854. 

Burns Feb.      1854. 

The  Haschish June,    1854. 

The  Kansas  Emigrants          ....  July,     1854. 

The  Hermit  of  the  Thebaid      ....  Aug.     1854. 

To  C.  S .  Dec.      1854. 

MaudMuller Dec.      1854. 

The  Rendition  (originally  entitled  "  Ichabod r')  1854. 

To  Friends  under  Arrest          ....  Jan.      1855. 

My  Dream May,     1855. 

Flowers  in  Winter Feb.     1855. 

On  the  Passage  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill      .  June,  1855. 

The  Fruit  Gift                                           .        •  Oct.      1855. 


.  399 

Tin-  NVw  Kx.ulus Jan.  1856. 

Mary  (larvin Jan.  1856. 

I'.urial  of  I'.ailMKir March,  1856. 

lYimsvlvania Sept.  185(3. 

Tin-  Pass  of  th.-  Si,.rr:i July,  1856. 

A  Lay  of  Old  Time Nov.  1856. 

The  Conquest  of  Finland      ....  lu-o.  1856. 

I         \Valk  in  Autumn Jan.  1857. 

Tin-  First  Flowers Mar.-h,  1S57. 

The  Garrison  of  Cape  Ann       ....  Oct.  1857. 

Eve  of  Election 'an.  1858. 

The  Pipes  at  Lucknow Jan.  1858. 

Trinitus M'ril,  1858. 

The  Palra-Tree Dec.  1858. 

To  G.  B.  C April,  1858. 

The  Sisters Aug.  1858. 

"  Anniversary  of  Hums  "  .         .         .  Jan.  1859. 

The  Rock  in  the  Valley  of  El  Ghor          .         .  Feb.  1859. 

For  an  Autumn  Festival      ....  Sept.  1859. 


TWO   EARLY   POEMS. 

THE  poems  which  follow  were  written  by  Mr.  AYh it t in- 
between  forty  and  fifty  years  ago,  and  have  not  been  pub 
lished  in  his  collected  works. 

ISABELLA   OF   AUSTRIA. 

[Isabella  Infanta  of  Parma,  and  consort  of  Joseph  of  Austria,  j.rHirti-.l  her  own 
death,  iimm-diately  after  her  marriage  with  tin:  Emperor.     Ami  l-t  the  iM\«-ty  and 
splendor  of  Vienna  and  Presburg,  she  wa-s  reserved  and  niel.-uichnly  ;  -h.   i 
tliat  Heaven  had  given  her  a  view  of  the  future,  and  that  her  child,  the  namesake 
of  the  great  Maria  Theresa,  would  perish  with  her.     Her  prediction  waa  fulfilled,  j 

Midst  the  palace  bowers  of  Hungary,  iinpi-iial  lV>bur-'s  prM.-, 
AVith  the  noble  born  and  b-autit'ul  a-sciuMr,!  at  h«-r  M«!I', 
She  stood  Ix-iu-ath  th«-  Minniirr  hravcns,  th«-  si.ft  wind  sixhinpf  on, 
Stitring  th«-  givi-n  ami  arching  boughs  like  duiiccr.s  in  the  sun. 


4OO  Appendix. 

The  beautiful  pomegranate  flower,  the  snowy  orange  bloom, 
The  lotus  and  the  trailing  vine,  the  rose's  meek  perfume, 
The  willow  crossing  with  its  green  some  statue's  marble  hair, 
All  that  might  charm  the  fresh  young  sense,  or  light  the  soul,  was 
there  ! 

But  she,  a  monarch's  treasured  one,  leaned  gloomily  apart, 

With  her  dark  eyes  tearfully  cast  down,  and  a  shadow  on  her 

heart. 

Young,  beautiful,  and  dearly  loved,  what  sorrow  hath  she  known  ? 
Are  not  the  hearts  and  swords  of  all  held  sacred  as  her  own  ? 
Is  not  her  lord  the  kingliest  in  battle-field  or  tower  ? 
The  wisest  in  the  council-hall,  the  gayest  in  the  bower  ? 
Is  not  his  love  as  full  and  deep  as  his  own  Danube's  tide  ? 
And  wherefore  in  her  princely  home  weeps  Isabel  his  bride  ? 

She  raised  her  jewelled  hand,  and  flung  her  veiling  tresses  back, 

Bathing  its  snowy  tapering  within  their  glossy  black. 

A  tear  fell  on  the  orange  leaves,  rich  gem  and  mimic  blossom 

And  fringed  robe  shook  fearfully  upon  her  sighing  bosom. 

"  Smile  on,  smile  on,"  she  murmured  low,  "for  all  is  joy  around, 

Shadow  and  sunshine,  stainless  sky,  soft  airs,  and  blossomed  ground. 

'T  is  meet  the  light  of  heart  should  smile,  when  nature's  smile  is 

fair, 
And  melody  and  fragrance  meet,  twin  sisters  of  the  air. 

"  But  ask  me  not  to  share  with  you  the  beauty  of  the  scene, 

The  fountain-fall,  mosaic  walk,  and  breadths  of  tender  green  ; 

And  point  not  to  the  mild  blue  sky,  or  glorious  summer  sun, 

I  know  how  very  fair  is  all  the  hand  of  God  has  done. 

The  hills,  the  sky,  the  sunlit  cloud,  the  waters  leaping  forth, 

The  swaying  trees,  the  scented  flowers,  the  dark  green  robes  of 

earth,  — 

I  love  them  well,  but  I  have  learned  to  turn  aside  from  all, 
And  nevermore  my  heart  must  own  their  sweet  but  fatal  thrall. 

"And  I  could  love  the  noble  one  whose  mighty  name  I  bear, 
And  closer  to  my  breaking  heart  his  princely  image  wear, 
And  I  could  love  our  sweet  young  flower,  unfolding  day  by  day, 
And  taste  of  that  unearthly  joy  which  mothers  only  may,  — 


.  401 

But  what  am  I  to  cling  to  these  ?  —  A  voice  is  in  my  ear, 
A  shadow  lingers  ;it  my  side,  the  death-wail  and  the  bier  ! 
The  cold  and  starless  night  of  Death  where  day  may  never  beam, 
The  silence  and  forgetfulness,  the  sleep  that  hath  no  dream  ! 

"0  God,  to  leave  this  fair  bright  world,  and  more  than  all  to 

know 

The  moment  when  the  Spectral  One  shall  strike  his  fearful  blow  ; 
To  know  the  day,  the  very  hour,  to  feel  the  tide  roll  on, 
To  shudder  at  the  gloom  before  and  weep  the  sunshine  gone, 
To  count  the  days,  the  few  short  days,  of  light  and  love  and  breath 
Between  me  and  the  noisome  grave,  the  voiceless  home  of  death  !  — 
Alas !  —  if  feeling,  knowing  this,  I  murmur  at  my  doom, 
Let  not  thy  frowning  0  my  God  !  lend  darkness  to  the  tomb. 

"  0,  I  have  borne  my  spirit  up,  and  smiled  amidst  the  chill 
Remembrance  of  my  certain  doom  which  lingers  with  me  still  ; 
I  would  not  cloud  my  fair  child's  brow,  nor  let  a  tear-drop  dim 
The  eye  that  met  my  wedded  lord's,  lest  it  should  sadden  him  ; 
But  there  are  moments  when  the  strength  of  feeling  must  have  way  ; 
That  hidden  tide  of  unnamed  woe  nor  fear  nor  love  can  stay. 
Smile  on,  smile  on,  light-hearted  ones  !    Your  sun  of  joy  is  high  : 
Smile  on,  and  leave  the  doomed  of  Heaven  alone  to  weep  and  die  !  " 

A  funeral  chant  was  wailing  through  Vienna's  holy  pile, 

A  coffin  with  its  gorgeous  pall  was  borne  along  the  aisle  ; 

The  drooping  flags  of  many  lands  waved  slow  above  the  dead, 

A  mighty  band  of  mourners  came,  a  king  was  at  its  head,  — 

A  youthful  king,  with  mournful  tread,  and  dim  and  tearful  eye  ; 

He  scarce  had  dreamed  that  one  so  pure  as  his  fair  bride  could  die. 

And  sad  and  long  above  the  throng  the  funeral  anthem  rung  : 

"  Mourn  for  the  hope  of  Austria  !   Mourn  for  the  loved  and  young  !  " 

The  wail  went  up  from  other  lands,  the  valleys  of  the  Hun, 
Fair  Parma  with  its  orange  bowers,  and  hills  of  vine  and  sun  ; 
The  lilies  of  imperial  France  drooped  as  the  sound  went  by, 
The  long  lament  of  cloistered  Spain  was  mingled  with  the  cry. 
The  dwellers  in  Colorno's  halls,  the  Slowak  at  his  cave, 
The  bowed  at  the  Escurial,  the  Magyar  stoutly  brave, 
All  wept  the  early  stricken  flower  ;  and  still  the  anthem  rung  : 
"  Mourn  for  the  pride  of  Austria  !   Mourn  for  the  loved  and  young  !  " 

2G 


4O2  Appendix. 


BOLIVAR:   THE   HERO  OF   COLOMBIA. 

A  dirge  is  wailing  from  the  Gulf  of  storm- vexed  Mexico, 
To  where  through  Pampas'  solitudes  the  mighty  rivers  flow  ; 
The  dark  Sierras  hear  the  sound,  and  from  each  mountain  rift, 
Where  Andes  and  Cordilleras  their  awful  summits  lift, 
Where  Cotopaxi's  fiery  eye  glares  redly  upon  heaven, 
And  Chimborazo's  shattered  peak  the  upper  sky  has  riven,  — 
From  mount  to  mount,  from  wave  to  wave,  a  wild  and  long  lament, 
A  sob  that  shakes  like  her  earthquakes  the  startled  continent  ! 

A  light  dies  out,  a  life  is  sped  —  the  hero's  at  whose  word 
The  nations  started  as  from  sleep,  and  girded  on  the  sword. 
The  victor  of  a  hundred  fields  where  blood  was  poured  like  rain, 
And  Freedom's  loosened  avalanche  hurled  down  the  hosts  of  Spain, 
The  eagle  soul  on  Junin's  slope  who  showed  his  shouting  men 
A  grander  sight  than  Balboa  saw  from  wave -washed  Darien, 
As  from  the  snows  with  battle  red  died  out  the  sinking  sun, 
And  broad  and  vast  beneath  him  lay  a  world  for  freedom  won. 

How  died  that  victor  ?    In  the  field  with  banners  o'er  him  thrown, 
With  trumpets  in  his  failing  ear,  by  charging  squadrons  blown, 
With  scattered  foemen  flying  fast  and  fearfully  before  him, 
With  shouts  of  triumph  swelling  round  and  brave  men  bending  o'er 

him? 

Not  on  his  fields  of  victory,  nor  in  his  council  hall 
The  worn  and  sorrowing  leader  heard  the  inevitable  call. 
Alone  he  perished  in  the  land  he  saved  from  slavery's  ban, 
Maligned  and  doubted  and  denied,  a  broken-hearted  man  ! 

Now  let  the  New  World's  banners  droop  above  the  fallen  chief, 
And  let  the  mountaineer's  dark  eyes  be  wet  with  tears  of  grief ! 
For  slander's  sting,  for  envy's  hiss,  for  friendship  hatred  grown, 
Can  funeral  pomp,  and  tolling  bell,  and  priestly  mass  atone  ?  — 
Better  to  leave  unmourned  the  dead  than  wrong  men  while  they 

live  ; 

What  if  the  strong  man  failed  or  erred,  could  not  his  own  forgive  ? 
0  people  freed  by  him,  repent  above  your  hero's  bier  : 
The  sole  resource  of  late  remorse  is  now  his  tomb  to  rear  ! 


Appendix.  403 


AY  1 1  AT   OF   THE   DAY? 

Tins  poem,  written  in  is.~,7,  four  years  before  the  out 
break  of  the  Civil  AVar.  >« •< -ins  to  foreshadow  the  terrible 
eonte>t  then  impending.  Its  powerful  imagery  and  its 
prophetic  tone  attracted  p-neral  attention;  and,  now  that 
it>  fullilineiit  has  been  witnessed,  its  repetition  in  this 
volume  has  been  asked  for  by  many  of  the  author's 
friends. 

A  sound  of  tumult  troubles  all  the  air, 

Likr  the  low  thunders  of  a  sultry  sky 
Far-rolling  ere  the  downright  lightnings  glare  ; 

The  hills  blaze  red  with  warnings  ;  foes  draw  nigh, 

Treading  the  dark  with  rhallnigp  and  reply. 
Behold  the  burden  of  the  prophet's  vision,  — 
The  gathering  hosts,  —  the  Valley  of  Decision, 

Dusk  with  the  wings  of  eagles  wheeling  o'er. 
Day  of  the  Lord,  of  darkness  and  not  light  ! 

It  breaks  in  thunder  and  the  whirlwind's  roar  ! 
Even  so,  Father  !     Let  thy  will  be  done,  — 
Turn  and  o'erturn,  end  what  thou  hast  begun 
In  judgment  or  in  mercy  :  as  for  me, 
If  but  the  least  and  frailest,  let  me  be 
Evermore  numbered  with  the  truly  free 
"Who  find  thy  service  perfect  liberty ! 
I  fain  would  thank  thee  that  my  mortal  life 

Has  reached  the  hour  (albeit  through  care  and  pain) 
"\Yhen  Good  and  Evil,  as  for  final  strife, 

Close  dim  and  vast  on  Armageddon's  plain  ; 
And  M  Jehad  and  his  angels  once  again 

Drive  howling  back  the  Spirits  of  the  Night. 
0  for  the  faith  to  read  the  signs  aright 
And,  from  the  angle  of  thy  perfect  sight, 

See  Truth's  white  banner  iloating  on  before  ; 


404  Appendix. 

And  the  Good  Cause,  despite  of  venal  friends, 
And  base  expedients,  move  to  noble  ends  ; 
See  Peace  with  Freedom  make  the  Time  amends, 
And,  through  its  cloud  of  dust,  to  threshing-floor 
Flailed  by  the  thunder,  heaped  with  chamess  grain 


WHAT  THE  TRAVELLER  SAID  AT  SUNSET. 

[From  the  "  New  York  Independent,"  May  17,  1883.] 

THE  shadows  grow  and  deepen  round  me  ; 

I  feel  the  dew-fall  in  the  air  ; 
The  muezzin  of  the  darkening  thicket 

I  hear  the  night-thrush  call  to  prayer. 

The  evening  wind  is  sad  with  farewells, 

And  loving  hands  unclasp  from  mine  : 
Alone  I  go  to  meet  the  darkness 

Across  an  awful  boundary-line. 

As  from  the  lighted  hearths  behind  me 

I  pass  with  slow,  reluctant  feet, 
What  waits  me  in  the  land  of  strangeness  ? 

"What  face  shall  smile,  what  voice  shall  greet  ? 

"What  space  shall  awe,  what  brightness  blind  me  ? 

"What  thunder  roll  of  music  stun  ? 
What  vast  processions  sweep  before  me 

Of  shapes  unknown  beneath  the  sun  ? 

I  shrink  from  unaccustomed  glory, 

I  dread  the  myriad-voiced  strain  ; 
Give  me  the  unforgotten  faces, 

And  let  my  lost  ones  speak  again. 


405 


He  will  not  chide  my  mortal  yearning 

Who  is  our  I'.rothfr  and  our  Friend, 
In  whose  full  life  divine  and  human 
The  heavenly  and  the  earthly  blend. 

Mine  be  the  joy  of  soul-communion, 

The  sense  of  spiritual  strength  renewed, 

The  reverence  for  the  pun-  and  holy, 
The  dear  delight  of  doing  good. 

No  fitting  ear  is  mine  to  listen 

An  endless  anthem's  rise  and  fall ; 

No  curious  eye  is  mine  to  measure 
The  pearl  gate  and  the  jasper  wall. 

For  love  must  needs  be  more  than  knowledge 

What  matter  if  I  never  know 
Why  Aldfbar.in's  star  is  ruddy 

And  warmer  Sirius  white  as  snow  ! 

Forgive  my  human  words,  0  Father  ! 

I  go  Thy  larger  truth  to  prove  ; 
Thy  mercy  shall  transcend  my  longing  : 

I  seek  but  love,  and  Thou  art  Love  ! 

I  go  to  find  my  lost  and  mourned  for 
Safe  in  Thy  sheltering  goodness  still, 

And  all  that  hope  and  faith  foreshadow 
Made  perfect  in  Thy  holy  will  ! 


406  Appendix. 


LIST  OF  WHITTIEH'S   WRITINGS. 

Legends  of  New  England  in  Prose  and  Verse  (Hartford,  Ct.)  1831. 

Moll  Pitcher 1832. 

Poems  of  J.  G.  C.  Brainard,  with  a  Memoir         .         .         .  1832. 

Justice  and  Expediency  :  an  Anti-slavery  Pamphlet          .  1833. 

Mogg  Megone  ........  1836. 

Poems,  chiefly  relating  to  Slavery  (Isaac  Knapp)      .         .  1838. 

Ballads,  Anti-slavery,  etc.  (Joseph  Healey,  Phila. )      .         .  1838. 

Lays  of  My  Home,  and  other  Poems  (W.  D.  Ticknor)      .  1843. 

The  Stranger  in  Lowell 1845. 

Supernaturalism  in  New  England    .         .         .         .         .  1847. 

Leaves  from  Margaret  Smith's  Journal         ....  1849. 

Complete  edition  of  Poems  (B.  B.  Mussey  &  Co.)     .         .  1849. 

Voices  of  Freedom  (Phila. ) 1849. 

Songs  of  Labor,  and  other  Poems 1850. 

Old  Portraits  and  Modern  Sketches 1850. 

The  Chapel  of  the  Hermits 1853. 

A  Sabbath  Scene  (J.  P.  Jewett) 1853. 

Literary  Kecreations 1854. 

The  Panorama,  and  other  Poems 1856. 

Complete  edition  of  Poems  (Ticknor  and  Fields)       .         .  1857. 

Home  Ballads,  and  other  Poems 1860. 

In  War  Time,  and  other  Poems 1863. 

Snow  Bound 1866. 

Prose  Works  (2  vols.) 1866. 

The  Tent  on  the  Beach,  and  other  Poems   ....  1867. 

Among  the  Hills,  and  other  Poems  ....  1868. 

Miriam,  and  other  Poems  1870. 

Child  Life  (a  Collection  of  Poems) 1871. 

The  Pennsylvania  Pilgrim,  and  other  Poems        .         .         .  1872. 

Child  Life  in  Prose 1873. 

Mabel  Martin  1874. 

Hazel  Blossoms 1875. 

Songs  of  Three  Centuries     .......  1875. 

The  Vision  of  Echard,  and  other  Poems  .         .         .         .  1878. 

The  King's  Missive,  and  other  Poems 1881. 


INDEX. 


ABOIJTIOXISTS,  persecution  of,  1 1 3- 
!•_>•_';  oj.po-ed  to  political  action, 
I •_>:.;  not  impartial  judges  of  Whit- 
tier's  poetry,  156;  memorials  of, 
340. 

•l.\l>ram  Morrison,"  335. 

"Agassi/.,  The  Prayer  of,"  302. 

Am.  Anti->I:ivery  Society,  30th 
anniversary  of,  241. 

"American  Manufacturer,  The," 
7'.'. 

Ames,  Oakes  spikes  a  continent 
•with  railroad  ties.  'Ji'.l. 

Aini-lu'.ry,  removal  of  Whitticr 
familv  to,  14.'.. 

u  Among  the  Hills,"  202. 
Anti-slavery  |x»ems,   the    first    by 

J.  G.  W.'.  1-2-2. 
Anti-slavery  poetry,  149-158,  197- 

204. 

Ariryll,  Duke  of,  -jr.  I. 
Atlantic-  cuMe.  tl;< 
"Atlantic    Monthly,"    the,    estab- ' 

Fished,   213;    becomes  a  power, 

216,  217. 
"Attitash,  Lake,' 

Bachelor,  Rev.  Stephen,  14. 
"  Bachelor  eyes,"  tin-,  15. 
Bailey.  Gamaliel,  178. 
"I'.arl.ara  Frietchie,"  I 
"  Barefoot  Hoy.  The."  ~>0.       . 
Barnard,  Frederick  A.  P.,  268. 
Bartlctt,  Gen.  \V.  F.,  333. 


Bearcnmp  Hiver,  205,  200,  289. 

I'.ihlio-raphy,   In.;. 

"P,..livar,"  402. 

'•  lio-ton  Hymn,"  by  Fmerson,  155. 

Pradfor.l,  William,  288. 

"P.randiMl  Hand.  Th.-."  197. 

Brazil,  Emperor  of. 

I'.rown.  David  Paul,  140. 

P.n.wn,  John.  -2~22.  -22  \. 

Bryant,  W.  ('..  renM  to,  2:>9;  let 
ter  to  the  Whitti.T  Dimn-r,  311; 
bis  tribute  to  W.,  :J14. 

Buckiiifrham's  "N.  E.  Magazine," 
lui;.  ]i;i.  \(\-2,  163. 

Burns,  Wliittier  hears  son.i,^  of,  00; 
and  has  the  loan  of  a  volume  of, 
0:2.  i;  1:  .Ii  tlVcy's  remark<  on,  345; 
careless  rhymes  of,  350. 

Cal.f,   Robert,  foe  of  superstition, 

197. 
California  saved  to  the  Union,  200, 

Canada  the  region  of  romance,  20S. 

Carlton,  Oliver.  7J. 

Carlyle,  hi<  account  of  Georiro  Fox. 
20';  note  from,  on  "tl 
107;    on  lalmrers,   185,    1> 
p..«-try,  :;H. 

Cartland,  Mrs.  Gertrude  W  ,  remi 
niscences  of,  44.  ; 

Cartland.  Mr.—  A..  -Jll. 

( 'arv,  Alice  and  I'liu-lx  . 

Ca-te  in  N.   ! 


408 


Index. 


11  Chapel  of  the  Hermits,  The,"  187. 

Character,  studies  of,  363. 

Chase,  C.  C.,  reminiscences  of,  47, 
48. 

Cheever,  Rev.  Dr.  Geo.  B.,  222. 

Child,  David  Lee,  278,  282. 

Child,  Lydia  M.,  her  description  of 
the  escape  of  George  Thompson 
in  Boston,  118;  letter  from,  193; 
appeals  to  Gov.  Wise  for  permis 
sion  to  aid  John  Brown,  227;  let 
ter  to,  234;  letter  from,  237;  poem 
to,  272 ;  letters  to,  277  et  seq.  ;  her 
literary  labors,  283;  tribute  to, 
336. 

Chocorua,  265. 

Church,  Garrison  assails  the,  125. 

Civil  War  in  America,  229 ;  poems 
upon,  254  et  seq. 

Clarke,  W.  Gaylord,  88. 

Coffin,  Joshua,  55 ;  lends  J.  G.  W. 
a  volume  of  Burns,  62. 

"Countess,  The,"  240. 

Cox,  John  and  Hannah,  305. 

Critics,  use  of  scalpel  by,  357. 

Curzon's  Mill,  329. 

Gushing,  Caleb,  15. 

"Davideis,  The,"  56. 
"Deer  Island's  mistress,"  317,  318. 
"Democratic  Review,"  164. 
Destiny,  in  writing  poetry,  330. 
Dom  Pedro,  Emperor,  translates  a 
poem  of  Whittier,  286. 

Earthquake,  conservatives  thought 
they  could  have  managed  the, 
155. 

Eliot,  President,  313. 

Ellis,  Rev.  Dr.  Geo.  E.,  334. 

Emerson,  R.  W.,  his  "  Boston 
Hymn,"  155;  reads  "Ichabod," 
200;  reference  to,  207,  291;  at 
the  Whittier  Dinner,  308. 

"Eternal  Goodness,  The,"  256. 

"Eventide,  At,"  333. 

"Fable  for  Critics,"  extract  from, 


Fessenden,  William  Pitt,  15. 

Fields,  Mrs.  Annie,  268. 

Fields,  James  T.,  246,  247. 

Follen,  Charles,  172. 

Forster,  William,  45,  198. 

Fox,  George,  Carlyle's  account  of, 

20. 

"Free  Press,"  the,  66,  67. 
Free-Soil  poetry,  389. 
Fremont  Campaign,  song  for  the, 

203. 

Fremont,  J.  C.,  his  noble  error,  234. 
Friends,  the,  calm  souls  of,  275. 

Gail  Hamilton,  267. 

Garrison,  W.  L.,  encourages  J.  G. 

W.,  66,  67,  79;  persistence  of,  107; 

imprisoned    at    Baltimore,    108; 

establishes  the  "Liberator,"  108; 

Johnson's  life  of,  130;   address 

at  30th  anniversary  of  Am.  A.  S. 

Soc.,  241 ;  funeral  of,  283. 
Genius  the  necessary  attribute,  339 

et  seq. 

Germantown,  settlement  of,  274. 
Girl,   the  tiny,   who   hates    to  go 

above  her  lover,  271. 
"  Golden  Wedding  of  Longwood," 

304. 

Grace  Greenwood,  286,  287. 
"Grave  by  the  Lake,  The,"  250. 
Greeley,  Horace,  275. 
Greene,  Col.  William  B.,  16. 
Greenleaf,  Feuillevert,  337. 
Grew,  Mary,  284,  285. 
Grimk^,  Angelina  and  Sarah,  151. 

Hartford  in  1830,  96. 
Haverhill  Library,  332. 
"Haverhill  Gazette,"  74,  81,  137. 
Hawthorne's  early  works,  162. 
"Hazel  Blossoms,"  295. 
"Henchman,  The,"  325. 
"Hero,  The,"  195. 
Holmes,    O.    W.,    291;    his   poem 

"booked  for  immortality,"  219; 

at  the  Whittier  Dinner,  308,  311. 
Howe,  Dr.  S.  G.,  161,  195. 


Index. 


409 


Ho  wells,  W.    D.,   at  the  Whittier 

Diiim-r,  308. 
Hilary,  Abigail,  14. 
IIii->.-y.    Meivy.    -is,   4!i;    her  love 
fJ,    1S!I.   l!Mi.    P.M. 
,  Ann,  30. 


"Ichab..d."   it-   storage  of   electric 

cner-y,  l'.i!»,  -Jin). 
Imagination  iu  poetry,  3iiO,  ,107. 
Indians,  Whittier'  s  sympathy  with 

wroiiL,'-  "f.  177. 
'»  Isabella  0*  Austria,"  399. 

.Irtt'rey  on  the  training  of  a  poet,  344. 
.lolni-oii,  Andrew.  -JUi. 
".lime  nn  UK-  Merrimac."  ;!-N- 
"Justice  and  Kxpedieney,"  110. 

Kane,  Dr.  K.  K.,  193. 

Kan-a-.  -tni.u'^le-.  in.  '2n-2. 
IN  .    \1       .     \       -.  -JiLi.   L'fJ.S. 

"  Krn<>/a  Lake."  ii'l. 

Kin;:.  'rii"ina-  Starr.  itiO  «  /  sej. 

••  K     jf»|  Htehre,  The,"  334. 

I^bor,  Carlyle  on,  185,  186. 

landscape,    Whittior  an    artist    in, 

358. 

Larcom,  Miss  Lucy,  289. 
"  Last  Walk  in  Autumn,  The,"  207, 

209, 

"Laurels,  The,"  258. 
"LausDeo,"255. 
Learned  poets,  3.">1  . 
Lilierty  party,  the,  128. 
Lincoln,      Abraham,     taught     by 

create,  -2;;4.  -214. 
Lincoln's  Proclamation,  celebration 

of,  in  Boston,  155. 
"Literary  IJccn-ations,"  180,  187. 
"Literary    \Vorl<l,"    the    Whittior 

number  of,  310. 
Livt-rmore.  Harriet.  ."•!. 
I/iiidon,  edition  of  Whittier's  poems 

in,  187. 

•    How,    H.  W..      :!'.•!  :    at   the 

Whittk-r  Dinner,  308,  310. 


Loring,  Klli-  Cray.  -J7_. 

.;..n,  Tin-."  i-'oo,  2nl. 

Love,     pnrtry  ,,f.         S,','     "  Tli 

Dream"  and  "The   lleiu  liiiian,"1 

Nt, 

Love  and  morc-y,  the  divine,  univer 
sal.  -'70. 
w.-ll'.-  •  -tinuite  of  Whitlier,  347, 

I.yri. •-  repeated,  355,  356. 

Mabel  Martin,"  276. 
Ma.-v,  'I'll, ,111  . 

-Maids  ui  Attita>h,  The."  858. 
Maine,  scenery  of,  in  poem-,  17'5. 
iret  Mnith's  Journal,"  180- 

183. 
Mark  Twain  at  the  Whittier  Dinner, 

810. 
"Mary    Carvin,"    historical    note 

upon,  208. 

Mather,  Cotton,  197. 
May.  Rev.  Samuel  J.,  mobbed,  114; 

protects  George  Thompson,  119; 

reminiscences  of,  l.'J-J. 
McDullie,  (Jov.,  jHiem  to.   IL''!. 
Melody  of  Whittier' >  yerse,  350. 
"  Meinorie-,"    a    remarkal)le    early 

jioem,  107. 
Memory  the  "mother  of  the  Muses," 

as. ' 

Men  imac,  the,  its  valley  made  clas 
sic,  109  et  seq.  ;  its  course,  170; 
geological  evidence  as  to  its  hi— 
ton',  171  ;  apostrophe  to,  258. 

Metaphysics  antagonistic  to  poetry, 
354,  389,  370. 

Middle-Century  Politics,  389. 

••MinMcr'*  Dan-liter,  The,"  336. 

'•Min-trel  (lirl.  The,"  80. 

"Miriam."  i 

Mob,  in  llaverhill.  114:  in  Cnnennl. 
N.  II. .  lit!  IIS:  de-tn.y-  Penn 
sylvania  Hall.  14ii  HI.' 

pone,"  Whittk-r' - 
mate  i,f. 

"M..II  Pit.l.er,"  !i4,  l.V.t. 

Moral.-,  a-  tagl  i"  pOttDS, 


4io 


Index. 


Mountain  and  lake  scenery,   359, 

360. 
Music  not  indulged  in  by  Quakers, 

62. 
Mussey,  B.  B.,  &  Co.,  publishers  of 

a  fine  edition  of  W.'s  poems,  183. 
"My  Namesake,"  210. 
"My  Triumph,"  272. 
"Mystery,  A,"  304. 

"  National  Era,"  the,  178;  poems 
written  for  the,  179,  180. 

Neal,  John,  80,  88. 

Negro  songs,  235,  236. 

"New  England  Legends"  pub 
lished,  100. 

New  Hampshire,  scenes  in  humble 
life  in,  262,  2t>3 ;  its  scenery,  359, 
360. 

Newspaper  writing,  its  disadvan 
tages,  104;  in  1830,  86-89. 

"Nigger"  question,  Carlyle's  view 
of  the,  107. 

Northerners  unprepared  for  war, 
231. 

Norton,  Charles  E.,  at  the  Whittier 
Dinner,  308. 

«  Old  Portraits,"  180,  186. 

Old  South,  Quaker  Woman  in  the, 

331. 

Ossipee  Mountain,  265. 
"Our  Master/'  256. 
"  Our  State."  206. 
"  Overruled/'  330. 

"Panorama,  The,"  187. 
Parkman,  Francis,  312. 
Parker,  Theodore,  his  simile,  129. 
Parties,  dissolution  of,  215. 
"Pastoral  Letter,  The/'  151. 
Pastorius,  Francis  Daniel,  274, 
"Peace  Autumn,  The,"  255. 
Peasley,  Joseph,  the  Quaker,  34. 
"Penn.  Freeman,"  J.  G.  W.  editor, 

138;   office   of,   destroyed  by  a 

mob,  140-144. 


Pennsylvania  Hall,  opening  of,  139 ; 
poem  by  W.  at  dedication,  140; 
destroyed  by  fire,  140-144. 

"  Pennsylvania  Pilgrim,  The,"  274. 

Perugia,  poem  on  the  massacres  at, 
222. 

Pern-,  Miss  Nora,  sketch  of  Whit- 
tier  by,  377. 

Phillips,  Sampson,  &  Co.,  and  their 
coterie,  213. 

Phillips,  Wendell,  153. 

Philosophy  in  poetry,  369,  370. 

Pickard,  Greenleaf  Whittier,  337. 

Pickard,  S.  T.,  notes  by,  59,  190, 
289. 

Pierpont,  John,  dedication  to,  166. 

Pitman,  Mrs.  H.  M.,  reminiscences 
of,  75. 

Plummer,  Jonathan,  peripatetic 
pedler  and  minstrel,  60. 

Pocasset,  the  murder  at,  284. 

Poetry  in  America,  character  of, 
85;  originality  in,  102,  103;  not 
always  a  marketable  commodity, 
136;  as  a  moral  influence,  149- 
151 ;  like  gold,  rarely  chemically 
pure,  158 ;  of  the  different  epochs 
of  life,  321;  the  secret  of,  339; 
from  the  heart,  341 ;  as  affected  by 
scholarship,  346,  351;  realistic, 
may  be  ideal  also,  367. 

Pond  Hills,  butter  from,  374. 

Pope  Pius  answerable  for  massa 
cres  in  Italy,  223. 

Pope's  Universal  Prayer,  366. 

"Portrait  of  a  Celebrated  Pub 
lisher,"  287. 

Port  Royal,  songs  of  negroes  of,  235. 

"Preacher,  The,"  222. 

Prentice,  George  D.,  90. 

Puritans,  as  reformers,  27 ;  view  of, 
in  "Margaret  Smith's  Journal," 
180-183. 

Quaker  woman,  testimony  of,  330. 
Quakerism  in  N.  E.,  18-35. 
Quakers,  the,  abandon  music,  62; 
persecution    of,    31,    173,    175; 


411 


J.  0.  W.  faithful  to  the  memory 
of,  !!••<. 
guascacunquen,  171. 

Kudi.-al  Club,  the,  284. 
Kantoul,  Robert,  !!'•;. 
Reconstruction  of  the  Union,  240, 

Religious  element  of  p". 

tew,  Thi-  N.  I'-."  «-f  Hartford, 

.!.<;.  W.  writes  f.ir,  SI;   its  editor 
quotes  and  cominriuU  hi-  vrr-r. 
Whittii-r  becomes  editor  of, 
92. 

Iti><-/ns    MnHtonnies   of    Merrimac 
valley,  171. 

Salisbury  Beach,  249. 

Satire  not  admired  by  its  subjects, 

154. 
Scholarship,  its  relation  to  poetry, 

346. 

"  School  Days,  In,"  270. 
Scriptural  themes  for  verse,  352. 
Seabrook,  burial  at,  302. 
•'Sea  Dream,  The,"  303. 

•l.TV.    -Jl!l. 

"Seeking  of  the  Waterfall,"  328. 

Seventieth  Birthday,  3U7. 

Sewall,  Samuel,  221. 

Shaw,  Kobn-t  <  •.,  colonel  of  colored 
troop-,  23!». 

Slavery, political  mo vementagai  n  -t, 
125  "tt  .<•  'i- 

"Snow  Bound,"  46,  48,  245. 

"Songs  of  Labor,"  185. 

Southerners  trained  for  war,  231. 

"  Southwick,  Cassandra,"   founda 
tion  for  the  ballad  of,  173. 

"Spiritual  Manifestation,  A."  -7-. 

Spofford,  Mr>.  II.  Pn-rott,  318,  319. 

Spofford,  K.  S.,  318,  320. 

Stanton,  Henry  B.,  138,  147. 

Stearns,  Gcor-''  I- 

Stone  A-<\  thmlngy  of  the,  284. 

Story,  \V.  \V..  oonpletfl  of.  3:1 4. 

Mrs.  11.  It..  :!!•_». 
.uigem,  comi>osing  by,  347. 


Style,  ronvontional.  1<)4.  347. 

:  MII,  tlu1  aroma  of, 
••SuiniiKT   by  tlu-   Laki-id.-/'   208, 
209. 

Simmer.    Charles    pocni    a.l>!' 

to,  198,207:  elegjon,»6  «,'.<"/., 

"Suns«M  on  tin-  IJraivamp." 
Su[K-rtluous,  fxelusioii  nl  the,  354. 

Taylor,  Bnyard.  2117.  -_'ii;.  -J17. 

••  i'nit  <>n  the'  Urai-h,  The,"  -MI;. 

Thai-k.-ray,    \V.    M.,    a  myth   ev>n- 

ei-niillU'.   -'•'-• 

Thayi-r,  A.  W..  editor,  73,  138. 
Thaver,  Mr>.  A.  \\'.,  ivminiscence 

Theology,  melting  of  frosty,  336. 
Thompson,  George,  arrival  of,  115; 
attempts  to  mob  him  frustrated, 


Ticknor,  \V.  D.,  poems  of  W.  pub- 

li>h.-d  by,  166. 

Tieknor  &  Tield-'s  edition,  187,  212. 
Titan  cromleeh.  the,  250. 
Toleration.  873. 

Tramps,  pedlers,  and  minstrels,  60. 
"  Traveller  at  Sunset,  Tlu-,"  4n4. 

"Underbill,  John,"  302. 
Union,  preservation  of,  260,  261. 

"Vanishers,  The,"  258. 

"  Vaudois  Teacher,  The,"  reception 

among  the  Vaudois,  93. 
"Vista  Of  r.rlKird."  321.  327. 
••  Voices  of  Freedom,"  14!). 

Walker.  Capt.  Jonathan,  l!»7. 

"  War  Timr.  Son--  in."  237  ft  tfq. 

W.-b-t.-r,   Daniri.  descent  oi 

poems  upon.  l'.''J-201. 
Wrb.fr  Whigs.  ir,4. 
"  W.-dding  V.-il.  Thi-,"  194. 
Welby.  Am.-lia.  '.U. 
W,-:.l!  Dr.  Klias  211. 

W,-ld.  Theodora  D 

"What  oft  he  OUT?"  4U-i. 


4I2 


Index. 


"  What  the  Traveller  said  at  Sun 
set,"  404. 

Wliiteficld,  the  Evangelist,  222. 

Willis,  N.  P.,  88. 

Winnipesaukee,  Lake,  scenery  of, 
209,  250,  251. 

"  Witch's  Daughter,  The,"  220,  221. 

"Witch  Hazel,"  295. 

"  Witch  of  Wenham,  The,"  327. 

Whittier,  Elizabeth,  115,  189,  192 ; 
poems  by,  98,  194,  305. 

Whittier  family,  graves  of  the,  53. 

WJiittier  house,  the,  12,  30-42. 

Whittier,  John,  13;  his  position  and 
services,  44,  45;  his  adventures, 
49  ;  his  death,  99. 

Whittier,  John  Greenleaf,  birth  of, 
14,  54;  his  childhood,  44  et  seq.  ; 
picture  of  the  mother  of,  48;  his 
sisters  and  brother,  50 ;  goes  to 
school,  55;  his  Bible  studies,  57; 
the  Friends'  meetings,  58;  his 
sports  as  seen  in  "The  Barefoot 
Boy,"  59;  first  hears  the  songs 
of  Burns,  60;  describes  humor 
ously  the  pedler,  Plummer,  01; 
influence  of  Burns  upon,  65;  is 
astonished  by  a  visit  from  Garri 
son,  67 ;  his  first  efforts,  66,  70 ; 
attends  Haverhill  Academy,  72, 
79  ;  teaches  school,  79  ;  writes  for 
the  "N.  E.  Review,"  81,  82;  is 
not  influenced  by  leading  poets 
of  his  time,  83;  is  of  no  school, 
86;  his  early  aspiration  (in  verse), 
94;  life  in  Hartford,  97;  visits 
his  family,  98 ;  remains  until 
death  of  his  father,  99 ;  resigns  his 
position  as  editor  of  "Review," 
100 ;  edits  poems  of  Brainard,  100 ; 
"New  England  Legends,"  100; 
suppresses  in  later  years  poems 
of  this  time,  101;  his  love  of 
poetry,  102  ;  writes  for  Bucking 
ham's  "N.  E.  Magazine,"  106; 
devotes  himself  to  anti-slavery 
work,  109;  publishes  "Justice 
and  Expediency,"  110;  writes 


for  various  papers,  112  ;  chosen 
member  of  Mass.  H.  R.,  113; 
attends  National  A.  S.  Conven 
tion  in  Philadelphia,  112;  mem 
ber  of  A.  S.  Society  in  Haverhill, 
114;  secretes  George  Thompson, 
116  ;  is  mobbed  in  Concord,  N.H., 
116-118;  publishes  a  volume  of 
A.  S.  poems,  122  ;  approves  of 
political  action,  130 ;  contented 
with  poverty,  but  independent, 
136;  Sec.  N.  A.  S.  Soc.  in  N.  Y., 
137;  edits  the  "Penn.  Freeman," 
138  ;  Pub.  vol.  A.  S.  poems,  139; 
his  anti- slavery  poetry,  its  char 
acter  and  effects,  149-151,  155, 
156;  contributions  to  "N.  E. 
Magazine,  163;  do.  to  "Demo 
cratic  Review,"  164;  do.  to  the 
"North  Star,"  165;  list  of  poems 
in  the  collection  of  1843,  166 ;  his 
"Memories,"  167;  limits  of  his 
travels,  175;  sympathy  for  In 
dians,  177;  fine  edition  of  his 
poems  by  B.  B.  Mussey  &  Co., 
183;  home  life  in  Amesbury,  188; 
his  mother,  191,  192;  his  wasted 
time,  193 ;  objects  to  vivisection 
or  autopsy,  210;  collected  poems, 
of,  by  Ticknor  &  Fields,  212 ;  aids 
in  establishing  the  "Atlantic," 
213-218;  amends  his  verses,  218; 
letters  to  the  author,  218, 2 19,  220 ; 
"  Home  Ballads,"  220 ;  opposed  to 
the  schemes  of  John  Brown,  227; 
opposed  to  the  war  measures  of  the 
government,  232;  letters  to  Mrs. 
Child,  237,  239,  240;  letter  to  30th 
anniversary  of  Am.  A.  S.  Soc., 
242 ;  his  popularity  culminates  in 
"  Snow  Bound,"  245  ;  portrait  of 
himself,  248  ;  plagiarism,  253;  the 
sincere  and  utter  piety  of  his 
poems,  256;  waiting  beside  the 
silent  sea,  257;  letters  to  Mrs. 
Child,  278  et  seq.  ;  his  friends, 
290  ct  seq.  ;  his  popularity  in 
Amcsburv  and  Haverhill,  231; 


Index. 


myth  as  to  his  meeting  Thack- 
iia\,  -J'.'-J;  celebration  i'l'  Tt'ili 
birtlnlav,  ;J<>7  :  observations  on 
his  training,  ;1>VJ;  his  choice  of 
scriptural  theme-,  -'i.VJ:  portrait 
of  himself,  -'iii4;  n'li^ioiis  clcinrnt 
in  liis  portrv,  •'!»;.");  imagination 
in  his  poetry,  .'i'iT,  :{»;.S;  as  a  pliil- 
(i.-ojihir  poet,  :;ii'.t.  .'JT'i;  obx-rva- 
tioii>  on  character  of,  ;i72  e<  seq. ; 
intlueiicc  of  his  poetry  cuninla- 
tise.  :;::{;  -k-tcli  of.  by  \..ra 
IVrry,  ;J77:  views  on  Woman 
SutYra-e,  :j»4;  his  lir-t  pnem,  :!!ii;; 
poems  in  "National  Era,"  3'J7. 


AVhittier,  Joseph,  l-'5. 

Wl.ittier.  Mary,   IS'.i. 

Whittier,  MOM-,  tlie  uncle,  47,  54. 

Whitti.-r.  Thoina-,  M-l-J,  33. 

Williams,    liopT,  as  a  raconteur, 

8T8, 

WiUon,  Henry,  280. 
••Within  the  (iate/'  336. 
\\"oinan  Snffra.ire,  .'5!'4. 
Wonl-worth,  philosophic  poems  of. 

no. 


Yankee  Cvp-ies,  GO. 
'•Yankee,'  The/'  80. 


Uuiversity  Press :  John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge. 


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BERKELEY 


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